The Price for Our Lives
by Zangai
Summary: A birthday, a kidnapping, and the impending destruction of the world. Five men know far more than they should about the identity of Tsukino Usagi, and will stop at nothing to accomplish their mission.
1. They'll Play with Our Lives

**Disclaimer:** Sailor Moon and Gundam Wing belong to their respective companies.

**Note:** While the characters of Gundam Wing are AU in this fic, the Sailor Moon characters and their history aren't. I pull SM history from the manga, anime, and musicals... If there are any questions, just let me know!

* * *

**Chapter 1 - They'll Play with Our Lives**

* * *

"Owwww..."

"Quiet."

"Ahh.. Reiiii..!"

"Stop whining."

Usagi pouted, and instead made soft wimpering sounds at her mistreatment.

Taking the silence as a cue, Rei grinned in a rather self-satisfied sort of way, as she went about her work. "_Eighteen_. An age that marks the blossoming of a girl into womanhood. It's the birth of new wisdom, elegance, and beauty. Now, I know we're talking about a crybaby dumpling-head, but I think it's best to be hopefu-"

"For someone who's been eighteen for only about **two** months, you sure do talk alot of game, Rei-_chan_," Minako's asute observation cut the priestess' obviously premeditated speech short, and earned her a giggle from Usagi, and a scowl from Rei.

The raven haired youth pulled the _obi_ tigher around Usagi's tiny waist (making the poor girl's laughter fade into a yelp of protest), looping the length of satin material and giving each end another sharp tug. "As I am the eldest one here, and you are the _youngest_, you will not speak unless spoken to, Minako."

Minako rolled her eyes dramatically, sighing and flopping back on the small couch. Rei had really been taking that elder-stuff **way** too seriously since her last birthday, and while arguing might have been fun, she decided it was best not to vex her friend too much... Especially when Usagi was still at her mercy.

"Rei-_chan_, I don't think I can breathe," Usagi began tentatively after a few seconds of silence.

"Suck it up, you weenie," Rei chided, though she did loosen the bindings around the blond's middle. "I told you not to eat so much at breakfast, didn't I?"

"But it was my Super Special Birthday Breakfast! Mako-_chan_ made it especially for me. I couldn't **not** eat, could I?" she countered, her voice rising to a plaintive whine.

"No one would have been offended if you'd denied that fourth helping of pancakes and that sixth doughnut," Rei snorted, deft movements quickly tucking and folding the lengths of the _obi _into the shape of a box bow. "There, you're finished."

Minako sat up at that, practically bouncing in her seat as she beamed over at the two of them. "Usagi-_chan_, let me see! Turn around!"

Rei stepped out of the way, a look of infinite fondness filling her expression, even if her words weren't nearly as touching. "Well, you clean up nice, I'll give you that."

Usagi slowly turned, arms held out at her sides, bare feet silent and the tail of her _kimono_ whispering against the floor of the shrine with her movements. Layers of silk and satin, creamy white and the palest pinks, were wrapped lovingly around her petite frame. Combined with her flaxen hair (worn in her customary twin buns with trailing lengths) and soft, pale complexion (enhanced only by the lightest traces of makeup), she was positively radiant as she smiled hesitantly.

"Oh!" Minako exclaimed, hands clasping one another in her surprise. "You look so beautiful, Usagi-_chan_!"

The smug grin Rei wore didn't last long.

Giving a squeal of delight, Usagi launched herself at the priestess, locking her arms around her neck and hugging her for all she was worth. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Nearly losing her balance, Rei pinwheeled her arms to stay standing. "Get off, get off! You're going to knock me over and wrinkle your _kimono_!"

Giggling, Usagi reluctantly let her go before smoothing down the folds of the expensive material. "Sorry, Rei! But don't worry, I'll be careful at the party not to get it dirty."

"Speaking of the party, we'd better hurry, if we don't want to be late," Rei said, giving a glance at the clock. "Minako, you're next. Get over here."

Minako groaned, and for one of the few times in her life, wondered if beauty was worth all the pain that Rei was going to put her through.

As the sound of Minako bickering with Rei filled the room, Usagi moved to admire herself in a mirror. "This is going to be a great birthday! I can feel it."

* * *

Tying the last of the paper lanterns to the tree bough before her, Ami straightened her _kimono_ and patted her hair back into place.

After a rather long and tedious debate, it had been decided that Usagi's birthday celebration was to be held in the park; after all, the cherry blossoms had a late blooming this year, and the trees were still full of the beautiful flowers that fell in a tranquil rain of as the wind blew through them.

Ami smiled to herself, looking around the area they'd decorated. The overhanging tree branches were full of small lanterns and paper stars between clusters of flowers, the ground warm with the green of grass peeking through the layer of soft _sakura_ petals, while the picnic blanket they'd laid out was full of food and presents.

"Usagi-_chan_ is going to be thrilled," she said quietly to Makoto, aiming her pleased look at the taller girl as she sat beside her on the blanket.

"Heck, **I'm** beyond thrilled with the final product, and it isn't even my birthday!" Makoto laughed in response, folding her hands in her lap.

"Haruka, Michiru, Setsuna, and Hotaru should be arriving soon," the blue haired girl commented, staring at the direction of the park's entrance. "Mamoru called to let me know he may be a little late."

"Usagi is really starting to rub off on him," Makoto snorted, and Ami had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling too loudly.

"Excuse me?" The two looked over their shoulders as the sound of a foreign voice, low and even, interupted them.

A young man approached them, slender as he was tall, his gait fluid and graceful. A veil of brown hair obscured the right half of his face, and the side that was visible held an undefined expression, neither threatening nor friendly, but a disquieting calm.

Ami and Makoto exchanged a quick glance before they both rose, their _kimon_o rustling around them as they staightened to face him.

"Yes?" Ami asked cautiously.

"I seem to be a bit lost. I was admiring the beauty of the trees and flowers, and can't remember the direction of the exit," he replied in the same tone as earlier, his visible eye, a piercing green, shifting back and forth between the two of them.

"Oh."

Makoto cleared her throat, seeing that Ami wasn't going to say anything else- not that she could blame her. The man made her feel uneasy as well. "It's.. It's just that way," she lifted an arm, pointing behind her, keeping her sight fixed on the stranger. "If you go down a bit, you'll see a path. Just go left."

"Ah, I appreciate the help," the man paused, "You're having a celebration of some kind, I take it? I thought the _Hanabi _Fesivals were held only in May."

"It's our friend's birthday," Ami spoke up, hand descretely slipping inside the sleeve of her _kimono_, taking hold of her _henshin_ wand.

The young man nodded once. "I see. Many happy returns to your friend, and thank you for your help." Walking with the same pace as he'd approached, the man circled around their blanket, and headed in the direction Makoto had pointed.

The girls looked at each other again before both laughed nervously to dispel the baseless, disconcerting feeling that had settled over them.

Out of eyesight, they didn't see the young man lifting what appeared to be some sort of cellular phone, nor did they hear what he said into it while looking back in their direction.

* * *

The roads were practically free of traffic, an event that was rare and welcomed. Haruka, sitting comfortably in the driver's seat of the convertable, shot a glance into the rear-view mirror.

In the back, Setsuna and Hotaru were talking in undertones to one another, the elder kindly setting a section of the other's hair back with a small silver clasp, the younger cradling colorfully decorated presents in her arms and on her lap.

"Love, don't speed. We're on time, and we don't need another ticket," Michiru's melodious voice drew her attention entirely onto the road again, and Haruka flashed her a confident half-smirk.

"There's no one in front of us this time; I'll just out-manuver any cop cars that try to stop me," she said half-jokingly, though slowing down to appease her partner all the same.

"Haruka-papa? What did you get Usagi-_chan_ for her birthday?" Hotaru asked curiously, holding up a flat, rectangular box that she and Setsuna had been puzzling over.

"Heh heh, it's.. ah.. it's a grown-up present, Hotaru-_chan_," Haruka answered eventually, wisely staring straight ahead instead of at her irrate counterpart.

"I thought we agreed you would give her gourmet chocolate, and I would be giving her jewelry, Haruka," Michiru said far too coolly.

"She's got enough chocolate, babe. I'm sure she doesn't have a single pair of those."

Michiru's pronounced silence was almost tangible.

"What? All pretty girls her age need a good set of handcuf- **Shit**!" Haruka flung an arm protectively in front of Michiru's chest as she hit the breaks, swerving to avoid a collision with a car that sped out in front of them at the last moment.

The convertible spun, the bumper glancing off a parked car as it came to a stop.

"Is everyone alright?" Haruka waited for affirmations from them all before getting out of the car and letting off a string of expletives- while the convertable was fine, the car she'd hit had lost one of its tail-lights.

"Did you get a look at the car that cut you off?" Setsuna asked, helping Hotaru out of the convertable.

"Not really," Haruka scowled, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "It was probably some punk kid who just got his license and was out for a joy ride."

"What are we going to do?" Clutching the small stack of presents, Hotaru's wide, purple gaze swept between her parents.

"You and Setsuna are going to go on ahead to Usagi's party, while Haruka and I stay here and try to find the owner of the damaged vehicle," Michiru answered, moving to stand beside the sandy haired woman. "The park is only a few blocks walk from here."

Saying their goodbyes, Setsuna and Hotaru started down the sidewalk, leaving Haruka and Michiru behind to handle the situation.

Unbeknownst to them, the driver of the car that had caused the accident coasted to a stop in the distance. A smile of grim satisfaction curled up the corners of his mouth as he produced a strange, wiry cell-phone, a replica of the one his cohorts carried. Idly twisting at the bottom of his long, chestnut-brown braid, he spoke a few words into the device before folding it in upon itself.

* * *

"Usagi, I'm not skipping with you and Minako, no matter how hard you pull on my hand," Rei grumbled.

Despite Rei's insistance that it wasn't necessary or remotely adult-like, Usagi had been firm on her decision that they should all hold hands on their walk to the park.

Standing in the center of the three, Usagi merrily swung her arms back and forth as she and Minako skipped along, their blond hair shimmering along with the silken _kimono_ in the brilliant sunlight, while Rei rolled her eyes at their antics, yet didn't offer resistance to holding hands after her initial protest.

The priestess did growl audibly, however, when Usagi and Minako entered into another round of the "Happy Birthday" song, sung in very poor english.

"You two are such idiots," Rei sighed loudly.

The two girls blinked and started giggling.

"Rei-_chan_! What did you get me for my birthday?" Usagi suddenly asked as the three paused at the corner of the street, waiting for the light to change so that they could cross.

"Ha! I'm not telling you. Suffer!" she laughed triumphantly at Usagi's crestfallen features.

"Aw, Rei-_chan_, you're so mean! And on her birthday, too!" Minako scolded, patting Usagi's back consolingly as the other girl pouted pathetically.

Snorting, the priestess shook her head. "You can't wait another fifteen minutes to find out? You have absoutely **no** willpower."

Usagi perked up, grinning widely and leaning in close to Rei's face like an excited puppy. "You'll tell me then?"

"You wish!" Putting a hand on the small blond's forehead, she shoved her away with a grin.

"Wah! So mean to me!" Usagi wailed, though she was quite happy to start skipping again with Minako once they'd crossed the street. "Just you wait, Hino Rei. Next Christmas, I'm not going to tell you what I got you. I'm going to make **you** wait!"

That caused both Rei and Minako to laugh. "Half the time you blurt out what you bought for us without our asking!"

Letting out an indignant squeal, Usagi snatched her hands away from them and covered her head. "You're both mean today!"

Rei and Minako let out another round of fresh laugher before they both slid an arm around their friend, causing Usagi to give up and laugh along with them.

Caught up as they were in their banter, when they turned the corner, they didn't notice the man standing in front of them until they were but a few feet away-

And until they were staring down the barrel of the hand-gun he held level with their eyes.

The girls all let out sounds of fear, their wide, innocent eyes first focusing on the weapon, then the one who controled it.

"Don't do anything stupid," he drawled, staring down at them with eyes the color of coal. He couldn't have been more than a few inches taller than Rei, but by the way he carried himself, he could have been a giant. His skin was a light caramel, his features arrogant, and his hair was as dark as his eyes, pulled up in an unforgivingly tight ponytail.

He stepped forward and the girls cringed reflexively, but all he did was force them off the sidewalk and into the alley behind the building that stood to their right with a few well-placed pushes.

His eyes darted between the trio and he opened his mouth to say something else, but was abruptly cut off.

"Please-don't-kill-us-it's-my-birthday-and-I-don't-want-to-die-today-I-just-want-to-sing-happy-birthday-and-eat-my-cake-and-open-my-presents," Usagi wailed in one, great breath, breaking out into full-blown, noisy sobs as she clung to her two friends.

"Shut up!" the man all but snarled, shoving the gun closer to Usagi's tear streaked face.

"D-do you want money?" Minako started, trembling hands moving to delve within the folds of her _kimono_.

"Don't move. And shut her up or I will," he ordered, gesturing to Usagi.

Rei obediantly slid a hand over Usagi's mouth, Minako's following hers a moment later.

It was silent then, aside from Usagi's hiccoughing sniffles and the armed man's steady, heavy breathing. The three _senshi_ didn't dare move under his intense, scrutinizing gaze, and he didn't say anything for a time, almost as though he were trying to decide what his next move would be.

Sight narrowing, he nodded to himself before speaking again. "Your names. What are they?"

Face pale, eyes wide and mouth dry, Rei was the first to answer. "Hino Rei."

"Aino Minako," Minako spoke after her, her voice quivering.

"And her? Who is she?" The man tilted the gun at Usagi, who hadn't made a move to answer, and was still sniffling behind Rei and Minako's hands.

"Are you going to kill us?" Rei asked instead, causing Minako to whimper and hold more tightly to Usagi.

"Her name. NOW." The gun was pressed against Usagi's forehead.

"She's Usagi! It's just Usagi! Please don't hurt her!" Minako practically shouted, starting to cry as well.

The man's eyes widened a fraction, and the hard line of his mouth softened as though satisfied.

Rei noticed the recognition flash across his face at Usagi's name, and her heart dropped. "Who.. Who are you?"

Without answering, the man slid his free hand into one of his pockets, drew forth a handful of white powder, and tossed it at the cowering women.

A moment later, the three slumped to the ground, unconcious.

**x**

**x**

**x**

* * *

Once again, I'm posting this fic, hoping that it is now in accordance to FF's rules. It made me very sad when they pulled it the first time.

Please, review if you've read. Feedback in all forms is greatly appreciated.

_Chuu_

**- Zangai**


	2. Leading Us On and On and On

**Chapter 2 - Leading Us On and On and On**

* * *

Usagi's brow furrowed as she began to wake; the air was thick with the scent of the ocean... But that didn't make any sense... She was at her party, laying in the grass with Mamo-_chan_ after gourging on Makoto's delicious cake, and...

Wait...

_The terrifying stranger_.

_Rei and Minako holding her tightly_.

_A gun against her forehead_.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she couldn't move. It was for the best that fear held her still; there was no telling what she now faced, upon waking.

She was laying down on a hard, cold surface that was swaying... It felt like Haruka-_san_'s water-bed, only nowhere near as soft... The sound of water lapping against a hard surface surrounded her...

She'd been.. kidnapped!

But where were Minako and Rei?

Usagi cracked her eyes open, only to find that her nose was inches away from a wall- if they were there, she had no way of knowing, unless she called out to them.

Opening her mouth to do just that, she remained quiet when she heard.. Someone singing?

"Over the seas, we go men! We're shovin' right off, we're shovin' right off, again!" A man's voice, tenor and relaxed, sounded from directly above her. "Nobody knows where or-"

"If you want to dirty your mouth with those Human songs, that's your business." Usagi almost whimpered; it was the voice of the man who'd had the gun. "But I won't have you dirtying my ears with them, Maxwell."

"I can't help it- music is music. Lighten up a little, would ya?" Maxwell sighed dejectedly, feet shuffling against the floor.

"_Music is music_," the second man echoed, the sneer audible in his voice. "That sort of reasoning is no better than one of Them would give."

There was a poignant silence.

"Ouch, Wufei," Maxwell said quietly, his words carrying a hurt that was impossible to mask, and Usagi felt sympathy welling up for the poor guy- until she remembered that he was associating with the man who'd kidnapped her.

"...I apologize, Duo," the man with the gun, Wufei, said stiffly, as though asking for forgiveness was an act foreign to him. "Being out there, surrounded by Them, and seeing everything..."

"Don't worry about it, buddy," the other man responded, his voice back to it's relaxed tone. There was a soft patting sound; Maxwell- Duo? -must have clapped Wufei's arm.

"If you two are finished, it would be prudent to concentrate entirely on our task," a third voice spoke, eerily calm. How many men were there? "A little further, and it's Duo's turn to row, and Wufei's to keep watch."

"Right, Trowa," Duo piped up, clearing his throat.

"By the way. She's awake," Trowa added tactlessly after a pause, as though having taken a moment to decide whether or not he cared enough to add that bit of information.

Usagi went rigid, pretending that she was unconcious, hoping they wouldn't start torturing her if they thought she wasn't awake. She scrunched her eyes closed, and tried not to breathe as she felt a form bending over her.

"Hey, do you want to sit up? You don't have to keep laying there," Duo said, not unkindly.

Without waiting for her to respond, he grabbed her by her arms, hoisting her up effortlessly and sitting her beside him. At this, Usagi did cry out, wrenching her wrists when she found she couldn't move her hands- they were bound tightly behind her.

"Stop rocking the boat," Wufei frowned, continuing to row.

Usagi heard him, though she didn't pay him any mind in her panic. Azure eyes wide and staring all around her, she let out another desperate cry; she was on a small boat, in the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight. The sun was beginning to set- how long had she been unconcious?

"Take it easy," Duo said slowly, growing alarmed as the boat gave a particularly harsh dip with Usagi's struggling. He grabbed her shoulder, only to yank his hand away sharply as she gave a shriek.

"Don't touch me! Where am I? Who are you guys? Why did you kidnap me? Where's Rei and Minako?" Usagi asked in a rush, voice elevated and higher pitched than usual as she stared at the young man next to her.

He as thin and dressed entirely in black, with large, violet eyes and a well-structured, heart shaped face, his brown hair was worn long, shorter sections in the front falling about his eyes and temples, while the back was tied into a braid. He didn't look that much older than herself- and neither did Wufei. But unlike Wufei who apppeared disgusted at best, Duo looked taken aback, unsure as to how to respond to her barrage of questions.

"Be quiet, and stop thrashing." Trowa's orders cut through her hysterics like a blade.

She hadn't even noticed him- and he was sitting directly behind Wufei, taller by more than a few inches. Flinching under his sharp eyes, his brown hair blown back by the wind so that his features, set in a cold indifference, were visible, Usagi almost did as instructed. However, looking at these three men who'd kidnapped her and had probably hurt her friends, she started once again.

"I will **not** be quiet! I wanna go home! And what did you do to my friends? They had better be alright, or believe me, you're gonna regret it! Untie me! Let me go!" she wailed louder than before.

"Maxwell, do your job," Wufei muttered, teeth gnashing- he was about two seconds away from taking matters into his own hands.

"Please, uh, shut up, 'cause you're gonna give us all a headache," Duo started, voice straining as he tried to keep his tone nonthreatening. "And if you keep rocking the boat like this, ah, our feet are going to get soaked with all the-"

Continuing to pull at the bindings about her wrists, Usagi considered her options as he spoke. There was no help in sight, there were nobody but these three psychos in sight, for that matter, and she honestly had little chance of getting out of this in her current position. And so, taking a deep breath, she chose to do something that had remained an unspoken taboo for as long as she could recall.

Her hands wouldn't come free, she could only feel the reassuring shape tucked against the hollow of her chest, but... Closing her eyes, and hoping with her entire heart that it would work, she cried out, "Moon Eternal-!"

She got as far as the first syllable in 'eternal' before she choked on her words, with the last bit coming out as nothing more than a sound of despair. Duo had the barrel of his gun pressed against her temple at the start of her second word, and her eyes snapped open to find that two other men had guns aimed at her as well.

"Serenity, in order to assure that you complete the journey unharmed, I highly suggest you banish any thoughts of trying that again," Trowa said calmly, the hand that held the gun never wavering or lowering. "Though I speak for myself when I say this, I'm certain my associates agree that you won't be asked so politely in the future."

"It would be in your best interest not to make another sound, for that matter," Duo added grimly.

The petite blond slowly twisted to regard them all individually: Trowa, with his stoic, unreadable expression and frighteningly clear eyes; Wufei, viewing her with unabashed dislike, his lip curling in a half-concealed sneer; and Duo, his mouth set in a firm, unforgiving line, the tip of his gun still trained close to her head.

Her throat tightened, her heart thrumed painfully, and her entire frame trembled.

These men somehow knew her true name and knew who she was capable of becoming- there was no hope of escaping this obviously armed and trained trio, and even if there was a chance, where would she go? She was in the middle of **nowhere**.

And the cold steel of guns invoked quite a different sort of fear than a Dark Energy wielding foe.

Bowing her head until her tiny chin brushed against the smooth material of her stained and wrinkled _kimono_, Usagi's lower lip quivered, her eyes welled up, and she prepared for a good bawling session.

"By the gods- Maxwell, just gag her."

* * *

Some time later, land came into view- at first, noting more than a distant line against the horizen, quickly broadening and growing until it loomed before the boat menicingly. The sun had set some time ago, and the rocky outcroppings and sandy turf were reduced to little more than splashes of blackness and dark shadows.

Duo, Wufei, and Trowa worked as a silent unit once they'd reached the shoreline and it came time to unload.

Duo easily draped Usagi over his shoulder and carefully pressed his gun against her side as he steadied himself, Wufei drew in the oars and gathered their supplies, and Trowa hopped out of the boat now that they were in the shallows, dragging the vessel until it was safely lodged in the dry portion of the beach.

Usagi's heart pounded in her ears as the blood rushed to her head, her teeth jarring as Duo set into a jog to match the pace of his two companions. As dark at it was, she couldn't see more than a foot in front of her, and she briefly wondered how the three were managing through the denser foliage without tripping or snagging themselves on outstretched branches. Her nose was still swollen and stuffed from her earlier crying, and her eyes burned- however, she didn't make a single noise as they continued moving. Oh, she **wanted** to voice her feelings of anger, fear, discomfort- but none of them had made any move to remove her gag (or untie her wrists).

The men came to a stop as abruptly as they'd started forward, and Usagi felt herself tense, having no way to support herself. She needn't have worried; Duo's arm tightened gently around her waist to secure her, and she heard him sigh faintly, "Home sweet home."

Usagi started to twist in his grip, wanting to get a look at what exactly is was that he considered 'home,' but Duo made a quiet, negative sound and prodded her with his gun so that she remained still.

They went up a flight of stairs, the sound of their boots against the stone steps loud around her ears, and they stopped once more, this time on a wide enclosure- a foyer.

It was either Wufei or Trowa who twisted a key in a lock, and then the three were stepping through the front door to a building that was as bright inside as it had been an empty dark outside.

Usagi blinked against the light, squirming slightly and then bracing herself for impact when Duo uncerimoniously dropped her. She bounced once before falling back against soft cushions- a couch.

Wriggling and kicking her legs, tangled in the layers of her outfit, Usagi managed to sit up on her own. Round globes, balanced on thin, three legged pedistals, were emiting the white light that bathed the spacious room. Aside from the strange lamps and the couch she sat upon- a bland tan color -, there was no other trace of furniture- no rugs covering the hardwood floors, no paintings or pictures or tapestries against the walls, no curtains covering the wide windows.

Duo sat on the floor across from her, back braced against the wall and legs folded beneath him, fiddling with his gun and paying her no mind. Wufei had gone down a different hallway upon entrance and hadn't returned. And Trowa...

The tallest of the three stood nearest the windows, half his form aglow with the artificial light of the room, his other half set in shadows. His posture was rigid, his arms crossed against his narrow chest- he could have been made of stone.

Turning, his gaze fell to meet hers, and she cringed- and when the ghost of a smile suddenly touched the corners of his mouth, never reaching his eyes, she shivered.

"You're terrified, aren't you?" his voice was smooth, quiet, and altogether unsettling. "If you knew how long we've dreamt of this day, of the time, of this moment, perhaps you would instead feel flattered. Perhaps then your skin would burn with a woman's chaste modesty."

He approached her, tendrils of his hair masking half his face, his visible eye staring with such intesity down at her that Usagi tried to backpeddle across the length of the couch, her bound wrists twisting awkwardly under her back, anything to get away- his disturbingly neutral persona, she could stomach.. but this...

"For no name has known such reverence as yours. No name has ever been spoken with such passion, such yearning before this era. Tsukino Usagi.. _Tsuki no Hime_.. Serenity," he breathed, eyes closing, face absolutey expressionless. "We've all but worshipped your memory and become inebriated with the desire to find you."

Usagi's pale cheeks reddened with a blush, and she swallowed hard- what he was saying now scared her more than any of the men's actions had before.

A bark of laughter interupted the palatable stillness that had thickened the air. "I haven't heard you speak like that since... Since before we came here, Trowa," Duo said, twirling his gun on a finger before slipping it out of sight on his person. "I missed it; didn't think I'd ever hear you spouting poetry again," he added wistfully.

Trowa's eyes opened once more, and when he stared down at Usagi now, they shown with mute amusement. "Nor did I... However," he walked away, back toward the windows, "Hope can give rise to the strangest creations, just as it can breathe life back into that which we thought lost..."

"Well spoken!"

Looking to the doorway from where the newest voice had come, Usagi felt her heart lift with hope- luminous in the white light of the globes, with pale hair falling around equally pallid, fine boned features, his garments too large for his lithe frame, the material billowing about his arms and chest, for a moment, she had almost believed it was Helios standing there; it was a rediculous notion, but desperate and alone as she was, it was the first that entered her thoughts.

"Quatre, you should be resting." Trowa's graceful steps brought him across the room and to the young man's side, his slender hands twitching toward the other man, as though contemplating whether or not he should drag Quatre back the way he came.

Quatre laughed softly, and canted his head, sea-green eyes falling upon Usagi. It had only been for a second that he had resembled Helios, and now that he moved, and spoke, Usagi wondered what could have possessed her to think that in the first place. They looked nothing alike- this man's rumpled hair was shorter, and undeniably a shade of blond, he was taller than Helios, and lacked the pure tranquility that Helios' golden gaze held- not to mention a horn-, and he wasn't wearing silken slacks and tunic- just a white shirt, the ties halfway undone and two sizes too large over a pair of beige pants.

Usagi sighed dismally; she would have given anything to see a familiar face.

"I believe you said it best yourself, my friend," Quatre laid a hand on Trowa's shoulder reassuringly, grining up at him. "Hope can rejuvinate."

The taller youth made no move, and Duo snorted loudly.

"...Alright. Truthfully, I couldn't rest easy." Again, Quatre looked to the captive blond on the couch, and this time he smiled amiably. "Her Life Force is something of a disturbance, not to mention the emotional ride she's putting me through."

Two murderous gazes joined the friendly one, and Usagi whimpered, shrinking down and wondering what exactly it was that she'd done to warrant their ire this time... Besides existing, of course.

"I'm going to see what's keeping Wufei," Trowa stated shortly, before disappearing down the corrider with hardly a sound.

Nodding, Quatre walked into the room, gingerly seating himself on the edge of a cushion before twisting to study Usagi once more- all of the men had been doing quite a bit of that this evening, scrutinizing the tiny blond half-expectant, half-intrigued... She disliked it, and didn't bother trying to meet the new man's eyes. Because of this, she didn't notice his movements, and when she felt the tips of his fingers dusting across her damp cheek, she jerked away forcibly, nearly throwing herself from the couch in the process.

"Please, Serenity, allow me to assist you." Quatre's voice was sweet and gentle, so much kinder than any she had heard since her awakening and subsiquent journey. And though his voice wasn't nearly as deep or wonderful, the way he spoke to her made her think of Mamoru.

The girl blinked back a new wave of tears- she'd cried so much already, Rei would tease her mercilessly if she knew! -and after a slight hesitation, nodded to Quatre.

"Ah.. Quatre, buddy, I don't want to be a nuisance, but are you sure that's a good idea?" Duo shuffled to his feet, pressing back against the wall as he rose. "Wufei's the one who ordered the gag in the first place..."

"Treating her in this manner, while necessary over the course of her transportation here, is both cruel and degrading at this point in time," Quatre said quietly, inching closer to Usagi to undo the knots that kept the thick strip of material bound tightly around her mouth. He offered her another warm smile, and she tried not to sniffle too loudly. "You won't cause us any problems, will you?"

Usagi shook her head, her hair swinging emphatically with the gesture.

Tugging out the last knot, the cloth fell away, and Usagi immediately uttered a quick stream of sentances that had Duo rolling his eyes and Quatre patiently searching his pockets for a handkerchief. "How do you guys know who I am? Why did you kidnap me? Where are my friends? Where am I? Where are you from? Why do you have guns? What do you want-"

Quatre placed a silencing hand over her rapidly moving mouth, and dabbed at her cheeks with the handkerchief, his expression bemused. "I'm going to have to ask that you refrain from questions... For now, at least." Usagi closed her eyes and he carefully swiped a bit of the material over her long, moist lashes before folding the handkerchief in half, and holding it over her nose. "Blow."

Feeling her face redden all the way to the roots of her hair, Usagi did as instructed. It was embarassing to have a stranger tending to her like this, but she supposed that it was better than sitting there with the sniffles. "Thank you," she murmured, shifting in her seat. "It wasn't very comfortable."

"If you weren't such a chatterbox, you wouldn't have had to wear the gag in the first place," Duo snickered, plopping down on the couch at her other side so that both she and Quatre bounced with the fall of his weight.

Instinctively, Usagi drew away from him, and closer to Quatre; she hadn't forgotten that Duo was the one who'd gagged her in the first place, or that he had so casually held a gun to her head with every intention of using it if she acted out of line. "If **you** had been kidnapped and taken away from all of **your** friends, **you'd** want answers too," Usagi said indignantly.

Duo leaned back, arms going up and crossing behind his head as he chuckled at her words. "Pssh. **I** wouldn't have been kidnapped. Period... Speaking of which, you're heavy for such a little thing, did you know that? I thought I had it easy, carting you up to the mansion instead of our supplies. Boy, was I wrong."

Usagi gaped at him, aghast. "You kidnap me, you ruin my birthday, and then you _insult_ me?" she sputtered, blue eyes wide in disbelief.

"Hey, we are what we are," Duo shrugged, sniffing slightly as he further reclined in his seat, stretching his back. "I don't think I'd call it an insult to state the truth."

"I'm not fat! You're just a.. a weakling," the poor girl huffed after giving him time to retract the statement, and finding that he wasn't going to. Flinging herself against the couch and ruining Duo's full-body stretch, she looked to her other side, intent upon ignoring Duo and talking to Quatre instead, only to find that the blond haired man was gone. "Where did Quatre..?"

"He left a while ago. Gods, no wonder it was so easy to nab you, you sure don't pay much attention to anything, do ya?" the braided youth shook his head mockingly.

There was no time for Usagi to take offense- Wufei had all but matrialized within the doorframe, his approach as silent as the other three carried themselves. "He's ready to meet with her now," he stated curtly, as though Usagi weren't in the room. "You're to escort the girl to his quarters."

"Up we go," Duo said lightly, springing to his feet before reaching down to pull Usagi to hers. "Leader-_sama_ doesn't like to be kept waiting."

**x**

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Well.. I had planned on posting this chapter this Monday.

But after all those wonderful reviews, I couldn't wait any longer. Thank you SO much; you all have no idea how much they mean to me, knowing that this is the **second** time I'm posting the opening chapters of this fic after having been gone for so long, and finding that you are all still so supportive.

I think I may be getting way too sentimental over it, lol, it was a really mushy moment when I opened my emails to find these.** -**big happy/teary smile!**-**

_Chuu_ x Infinity!

**- Zangai**


	3. At the Center of It All

**Chapter 3 - At the Center of It All**

* * *

Whistling merrily, Duo prodded and poked his prisoner down the dark turns of the corrider and up a flight of stairs, stone, just as the ones she'd been carried up earlier had been. The entire building- house? -seemed to be created from a mixture of stone and wood in fact, and though the summer months had just started, the air was chill and damp. The light was scant, supplied by scattered lamps that dangled from the ceiling by thin rope, the same round globes that had been used in the room Duo had taken Usagi from.

The top of the stairs led to another hallway. The braided man ushered her down a shorter length than the first, stopping them outside of a wide set of thick, oak doors.

"Here we are!" Duo chirped with false cheefulness, passing around her to grasp and twist the handles, cracking the doors enough for a slim body to slip through before backing up a step.

The air of the room washed over her in heated waves as Duo shoved her within, shutting the doors behind her with an audible click. The drastic change in temperature had Usagi blinking and slightly disoriented as she looked about her. Flickering light, courtesy of the fire that crackled quietly within the hearth to her right, poorly set the room aglow. Shadows danced and fell around her, orange light gleamed off a few metal objects and the array of books that lined the shelves to her left.

Staring, Usagi took a step forward. She'd never seen so many books stacked and lined up in such a small area! Some nearest her looked old, the bindings shredding and dull, others seemed quite new. Stumbling and nearly losing her footing, Usagi peered down- she'd tripped over the edge of a red carpet, one that felt thin and almost non-existant beneath her feet, likely for decoration than comfort.

A high backed chair that appeared a similar red in the light of the fire was positioned in front of a wide desk piled high with more books and covered in layers of paper, a twin to this chair behind it.

Moving closer and squinting to see, Usagi thought she could make out what appeared to be maps sprawled out across the desktop, mixed with other sheets of paper covered in small, flowing script- some comprised of Japanese characters, others in Roman lettering, though most she couldn't recognize.

Usagi felt her heart give a rather sharp tug- this room made her think of Ami... Ami-_chan_ would have loved a study like this, a veritable pool of knowledge at her fingertips. Sure, it would have been filled with the personal effects that this room was severely lacking, but she could envision Ami sitting behind that desk, happily pouring over a thick, pictureless book.

Even Mamoru would have desired a room like this to serve as a quiet place for studying his college books or doing his coursework...

That notion made her heart wrench, and she swallowed thickly.

"Welcome, Princess," a low, inflectionless voice stated from behind her.

Startled, Usagi spun, golden hair whipping around her shoulders, the firelight burning her widened eyes and dancing across her pale skin, as her lips parted in surprise.

He'd been there the entire time, standing next to the mantle above the hearth, motionless and cloaked in shadow- it was no wonder she hadn't noticed him upon entry. This newest man stepped in front of the fire, the flames casting a glow around the outline of his form. Like the others, he moved with poise and silence, and his eyes never left her, even with locks of his unruly, dark hair swaying in his line of vision.

The four men she'd already met had all been equally handsome- 'villians' or not, one had to give credit where credit was due. Their physical attributes had all held a strange, ethereal quality that frequently graced the foes who would do her or her friends harm.

But this man.. Their _leader_.. The way his fitted slacks rippled about his legs with his steps, the curve of the shadow that deepend the dip in the hollow of his neck beneath the open collar of his jacket, the opposing determination and vast emptyness that shown in his unwavering, steel-blue gaze, the harsh lines of his nose, his mouth, his chin...

It was the sort of strikingness that made her think of Galaxia or Diamond, an innate perfection with an untouchable distance, like the furthest recesses of space. Seeing someone like him didn't inspire a blossoming warmth, it only froze with a cold so precise that it burned.

Warning bells seemed to echo in her ears, and Usagi straightened, taking a step back. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice stronger than she felt at the moment.

"It hardly matters," he replied shortly, stopping a few paces in front of her- he sounded as if he never spoke outside of a montonous growl.

"You're the leader," Usagi pressed on, a slight quiver invading her words when she noticed the handle of a gun protruding from the waist of his pants. "So I- I want to know who you are, all the-"

"I'm not."

"What?" Usagi blinked, meeting his fixed stare briefly before she looked away- he was studying her with a severity that made her all the more self-concious that her hair was disheveled, her _kimono_ torn and ruined, and she hardly fit the title he had been keen to remind her she held.

"I'm not the ruler or leader of the other four men," he corrected her evenly. "They follow my commands of their free will."

"But.. But Duo said you were-"

"I am Heero Yuy," he continued on, ignoring her interruption. That name meant nothing to Usagi, not that she expected it to.

When he didn't say anthing else, she decided to risk voicing another question.

"Are you from the Dark Kingdom or- or..?" Usagi backed up another step, almost tripping again, this time over the trail of her _kimono_. Heero's hands had twitched in the direction of the gun in his belt at her words, and she wondered if that inquisition were to be her last.

His hands never touched the weapon, instead curling in upon themselves reflexively, a sign of his displeasure. "Of course not. We hold no loyalty that kingdom," he practically snarled, the first time his voice had reflected any emotional connotation.

"Where are you from then?" she quickly spouted, hoping to ease his alarming anger.

As quickly as it had surfaced, his ire was placated, and he gave a grunt before responding, "Earth."

"Oh." That didn't tell her anything about the five men... Though the answer should have been expected, considering the men had all been equip with guns, a device unnecessary for one who had the power to summon youma... Deciding to be more direct, she ventured, "Why have you kidnapped me?"

"You are Sailor Moon, the incarnation of the princess of the ancient Moon Kingdom, Serenity."

"What? I know that!" she said, brow furrowing. He wasn't being helpful in explaining her situation- she had a feeling that if she hadn't been raising questions, he wouldn't have said anything to her past an initial greeting.

Wasn't he supposed to have prepared something to tell her? Wasn't that how it was done..? "I meant- that is..." The girl fidgeted under his gaze, and sighed. "What do you want with me?" Her thoughts wandered briefly to what Trowa had said to her.

She wasn't sure, but it sounded as though Heero made a small sound of scorn before he said, "I don't want you."

Usagi inched back another step. She would have moved further, but by then, she was already pressed against the back of the chair behind her. "But- I- Why did-"

Again, Heero kept on speaking as though she hadn't- with his even, expressionless tone, it was impossible to desipher when he was finished and when he still had more to say. "I want the _ginzuishou_."

It was rediculous how Heero had made such a clear distinction between her actual person and a possession of hers that was as much apart of her as her eyes or her hands or her heart- he obviously didn't know as much as he let on. "Oh, sorry, I guess I should have guessed that one, huh?" she scoffed with false bravado,

"...It would have been one of the more logical deductions," the man responded after a moment's pause, as though honestly considering her statement and not noticing her mocking tone.

Again, she squirmed under his resolute stare- the room was too warm, too dark, and too small for her liking. Her voice sounded strained and whining to her own ears when she spoke again. "But how do you even know about it? How do you know who I am..?"

"That's classified information."

"What kind of an answer is that?" Usagi exclaimed indignantly. When Heero made no move to explain himself or elaborate, she shook her head doubtfully. "If that's 'classified,' I guess you aren't going to tell me what you want with the _ginzuishou_, are you?"

"I'm going to use it to destroy the world."

It would have been so easy to laugh at the absurdity of a statement like that, if not for the fact that her mouth had grown dry, the breath frozen within her chest.

If Heero had made his claim, his voice rich with corrupt passion, though shocked and disturbed, she would have been able to reply, to deny that he'd ever succeed. But when he'd spoken, his level tone had been so saturated with a calm conviction that Usagi felt herself tremble, her legs threatening to give out from beneath her.

"What?" she gasped, eyes shining, large and fearful.

"I'm going to use the _ginzuishou_ to destroy the cities and their towering skyscrapers, the factories and their chemical waste. All schools and businesses, houses and cars, roads and airports, trains and ships, and all traces of Humanity that desocrate this planet," Heero said carefully. He spoke with a rational clarity, absent from the voices of those Usagi had faced in the past, and she was terrified.

"How.. How can you say that?" she implored tremulously, "Everything and everyone..? Even yourself? Even the four out there who follow you..?"

A look of incomprehetion flittered across his stony features before fading back into an intense, closed glare. He said nothing.

"I- I won't let you!" Standing straighter, she lifted her chin defiantly. "If you know who I am, then you know how much I love this world, and all my friends in it. You can't have the _ginzuishou_, and you-"

In half the span of a heart-beat, Heero had his gun in hand, the nozzle pressed between Usagi's lovely eyes. "I was not asking for your permission, Princess. Give me the broach."

It was Usagi's turn to say nothing- she pursed her lips to keep herself from making any sound of fear and matched his stare.

There was an ominous click as Heero pulled back the hammer of the gun. "Give me the broach," he repeated.

At that, Usagi's eyes scrunched closed, though she remained silent and made no move to honor his demand- sacrificing oneself didn't mean that one had to watch their own demise, after all.

The pressure against her forehead suddenly abated. Usagi slowly opened her eyes to find that Heero had returned the weapon to his waist, and was frowning down at her. "Tell me where the broach is located, or I will be forced to search your entire form to retrieve it. I can assure you that it will not be an enjoyable task for either one of us."

The girl's cheeks heated with a blush- she was going to get manhandled by this psycho, _kami-sama_... Pressing into the back of the chair as much as she was able, Usagi shook her head frantically at Heero. There wasn't a single threat he could use that was going to make her wilfully offer the crystal.

The man's hand shot forward like a striking snake, aiming for the center of her chest. Usagi yelped and cringed, awaiting the blow.

It never came to pass.

Just as his fingers brushed the front folds of her _kimono_, there was a brilliant flash of pure, bright white. A warmth began to seep from the hollow of her chest, as though drawn forth through the conductor of her broach, blossoming around and through her. For a moment, there was nothing but this feeling of tranquility and familiariarity, and her breast all but ached with a sense of nostalgia.

In front of her, though the sound seemed far more distant, she heard Heero give a barely perceptable groan of pain. In an instant, the light faded, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the man had dropped to one knee, holding tightly to his right forearm...

Usagi would have clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her reaction, had her wrists not been bound. Instead, the cry of shock she uttered was loud and off-key.

The tips of Heero's fingers were a ghastly shade of black, cracked and continuing down to scourched, peeling skin and weeping blisters, ending in angry red welts that disappeared into the sleeve of his jacket. The pain made Heero's brow twitch, his lips fighting not to curl back as he hissed quiet breath from between his teeth.

"All this time.. After all.. Things are **still**..." he murmured broken half phrases, eyes slowly rising from his grievious injury to regard the horrified girl before him.

She'd expected him to be angry, murderous at what had befallen him. But Heero looked upon her the same as he had prior, his eyes never changing- distant and calculating...

Had he known something like that might happen? What exactly **had** happened? Her broach still felt warm and comforting against her chest- of course the _ginzuishou_ had reacted and created the light, but why **now**, and never before in such a manner? How, and **why**, had Heero been wounded? It didn't make any sense...

Still clutching his wounded arm close to his body, Heero rose into a stand and stalked past her without another glance, pulling open the doors.

"Heero? Are you- Gods! What the hell did she-"

"Forget about it, Duo," Heero growled out, his tone leaving no room for arguement. "I want you to escort the princess to her room, and to send Wufei in to me. Tell him to bring the medical supplies."

"My **room**? You can't keep me here!" Usagi cried, turning to the door and the two men within the frame.

"You're in no position to argue, you little-" Duo started to yell back at her, clearly not having forgotten about Heero's injury, or the fact that she was the only possible cause behind it.

Heero took hold of the other's shoulder, silencing him in an instant. "You will go to your room," he looked to Usagi. "You won't make another sound after Duo locks your door. If you do, I will order someone to cut out your tongue, Princess."

"Just you wait," Usagi insisted with a quiver. Duo grabbed her and started to shove her out of the room. "My friends will come for me, you can't keep me here for long."

"No, they won't," Duo replied scathingly, pushing her forward with a scowl.

"Ha! That's what **you** think," Usagi continued, forcing herself to give a strained laugh, lest her voice shake again. "But they'll come."

"...No one is coming for you." Heero was deftly undoing the buttons of his jacket with his uninjured hand, as she moved past him. "Of that, you can be assured."

Ignoring Duo's persistant prods, Usagi twisted to look back at Heero. "Nothing could stop them from coming for me! Nothing-" Except.. Except if they were...

Usagi's eyes darkened with understanding; Heero's demenor remained fixed and serious.

_Rei and Minako..._

"No..." she breathed, stumbling and falling to her knees.

_Ami and Makoto..._

Duo grabbed her irritably. "Get up and get moving."

_Mamo-chan.._

**_Everyone..._**

Usagi gave a strangled cry of despair before the ground rushed up to meet her, and she knew no more.

**x**

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Another chapter promptly added. Hehe. Well. Pretty promptly, anyway. Doesn't hurt that it was already written out and begging to be uploaded again for everyone to enjoy!

To my reviewers, thank you, from the very bottom of my heart!

I'm thinking about replying individually to comments left for me. I haven't tried that yet, except for once. Is it annoying, for an author to send back replies? o.o Hmm...I'll do it for the reviews left for this chapter! I hope I don't bother anyone with them, lol.

Hugs for everyone!

**-Zangai**


	4. Here Shall We Live

**Chapter 4 - Here Shall We Live**

* * *

She woke up cold and shivering, head aching in the aftermath of the prior day's events.

Sitting up with a start, Usagi grimaced against the act and lifted a small hand to her brow, and to the painful bump along the left side, before falling back against the layers of the duvet and mattress beneath her. She must have hurt herself when she'd fainted...

Her grief welled up inside of her as everything came back to her in an instant, and she drew a shuddering breath.

_Everybody... all of them... they were..._

A sniffle, before the young woman pressed her quivering lips into a hard line, blinking rapidly. Now was not the time for tears- isn't that what Rei-_chan_ would tell her? Minako-_chan_ would warn her that all this crying was bad for her complexion, and if Mako-_chan_ could be strong in terrible situations, for everyone and for herself, shouldn't she look to her as well for inspiration?

She **had** to get out of here.

Swiping the back of a hand over her eyes, Usagi nodded grimly to herself, trying to display a greater bravery than she felt at the moment- and how **hard** that was, when she wanted nothing more than to curl up, hugging her knees to her chest and wishing she was anywhere but here!

Pushing herself up, more slowly this time than the first, the wave of dizziness that had initially assaulted her was lessoned, and she peered around the room, to assess the situation before acting, as Ami-_chan_ had always reminded her kindly, no matter how many times Usagi had done just the opposite.

The wide, four poster bed was positioned against the back of a small room, with bare, off-white walls and and hardwood floor... There weren't any furnishings to speak of, save for an uncomfortable looking chair in the corner nearest the closed door, and a rather rustic looking wooden wardrobe, devoid of paint. A wide window lined the left wall, and the pale sunlight that trickled through the row of metal bars blocking the glass indicated that it was now a new morning- or perhaps early afternoon.

Leaning forward, the soft mattress giving lightly with her shift in weight, Usagi tilted her head, an ear thrust in the direction of her closed door.

All was silent.

A tiny 'hmph' for self-encouragement, and she was slowly easing herself to the edge of the bed, miraculously coming to a stand with only minimal noise, despite the fact that she was still working around long, tangling layers of _kimono_. The lump in the girl's throat seemed to grow and made her swallow thickly, when she realized how dirty and torn her once elegant vestment had become.. after.. she'd promised to take care of it...

An emphatic shake of her head was given to disperse the thoughts. She couldn't afford to let her resolve crumble over the state of her borrowed clothing, and loss of shoes. Socked feet whispered over the floor as she crept toward the door, attempting to embody the epitome of silence, and wincing each time the old boards creaked beneath her.

The entire process of closing the distance between her bed and the exit took roughly thirty minutes, due to the snail-like pace she was implementing. A look of gloating over her obvious display of sneakiness surfaced as she finally grabbed the doorknob; it was still perfectly quiet outside of her room, which meant that none of them knew of her impending escape!

Of course, given that the door was locked, perhaps it was much more understandable as to why none were all that concerned with the state of the captive, for the moment.

Usagi twisted once, blinked, twisted again, and then rattled the doorknob with increasing alarm, going as far as taking hold and pulling with two hands, still to no avail. "Noooo.. nonononono! Why won't you open?" she bleated miserably, directing a kick at the unresponsive door's lower half, stumbling back on one foot, the other smarting from the act.

_-_

The petite female froze mid-hobble and mid-internal rant, mouth forming a small 'o' as an idea dawned on her, and she could only wonder why she hadn't thought of it sooner. Surely, Usagi was trapped in this ugly little room.. But Sailor Moon could break out of here in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

A hand slid into the folds of her _kimono_, even as she began the words that were the true key to her escape. "Moon Etern- EH! Wh-where is it!"

Her grasping hand dug around more deeply, arm disappearing up to her elbow as she tried to locate the elusive broach, before she tugged at the front of her clothes in desperation, pulling apart the overlapping layers to peer down into the empty 'pouch'.

A wail echoed through her room and carried throughout the interior of the hollow, stone and wood mansion, as Usagi dashed wildly toward the bed she had woken up on. Portions of covers and sheets careened through the air sporadically, only to fall off the bed and to the floor in small arches, punctuated by panicking sounds being issued by the small blond who had the bed stripped in under a minute, and was about ten seconds away from flipping the naked mattress, when the door's lock gave a loud click of release, and she froze mid-lift.

"Good afternoon. I trust I find you well." The slender, quiet voiced man pushed the door the rest of the way open with one splayed hand, the other busy balancing a wooden tray as he stepped inside. Despite the fact that the once pristine room now looked in shambles after Usagi's assault on the bed, Trowa's words retained a formality that was as tranquil as a still lake.

"You..." The mattress was dropped with a small, cushioned thud, her delicate hands fisting at her sides as she stared over at the tallest of her captors, and she was proud that her voice only wavered marginally when she addressed him. "Give it **back**!"

"Give what back?" he asked in the same calm, unrevealing tone as he approached her, carefully stepping over a rumpled pillow.

"What do you mean 'give what back'? I'm talking about my broach!" Usagi explained incredulously, sidling up onto her bed and sliding across to the side opposite Trowa, before he might reach her; the memory of the eloquent speech he'd given her the night prior was hardly diminished, and only made her that much more uncomfortable in his presence.

"Ah." He tilted his head back a fraction as a short sound of understanding was uttered, and made no move to speak after.

"I had it before, and now I wake up and it's gone. I looked so I **know** it's not here," she continued, trying to sound irritated and firm.

This time, Trowa's response was slightly longer, though no more helpful than his first answer had been. "I see."

Hopping back onto the bed, and skirting across to the other side, as Trowa had walked around the bed to reach her during the conversation, Usagi huffed and straightened, voice raising to a whine out of exasperation; of all the things to have to argue her case for... "Look, I know one of you has it, because he, Heero, your boss-guy, told me that you all wanted it, and I'm **not** stupid, and-"

Standing across from her, with the bed separating them, Trowa held up his free hand to call for silence, and Usagi found herself obliging out of nervousness and the desire for information. "I haven't thought for a moment that you suffer for lack of intelligence, Serenity, and I apologize if I've given that impression."

With infinite patience, Trowa again started to walk around the bed to reach Usagi. Rendered momentarily mute due to the genuine ring to his words, the blond shuffled onto the bed yet again, this time coming to a stop when she was seated center mattress and out of reach.

"However, I do think it's best I correct your misconception now: though we have confiscated it and have no intention of returning it, we, apart from Heero, hold no desire to possess your _ginzuishou_," he added, stopping at the foot of the bed and inspecting her coolly, the tray all the while balanced with perfect ease despite all the moving around.

She blinked up at him, confused, "But, Heero said..."

"We only wish for that which Heero deems of interest and of relevence to our goal."

Brows furrowed beneath heavy bangs, and Usagi rolled her eyes quickly before her gaze fell again to the man standing before her. "That's the same thing," she stated flatly. It always felt as though they were talking in circles, and it made her heavy-heart weary.

"There's a world of difference," with a tone of indifferent finality, he leaned over, placing the tray onto the edge of the bed, before pushing it gently toward her. "Eat your lunch."

Usagi shook her head, whether to his first statement or his second was indeterminable, sight fastening upon the wooden tray and matching, porcelain plate, bowl, and cup, the first full of sliced bread, cheese, and dates, the second with fruit salad, and the third with water, though she just as quickly turned her gaze from the offering. "No.. There really **isn't** a difference, because, in the end.. **everything** is still the same..."

"That difference, which you deny, is the very thing which determines the reasons for all things that have come to pass," he said patiently, in the same infuriatingly soft, low tone. "Though motivation may vary, in the end it is our underlying desire to act as Heero would have us, that has led us here."

"And for him, for.. for.. for your goal, for his or yours or everyones horrible wish, you would be a..." Large, blue eyes lifted to find Trowa's unreadable pair, and with a visible tremor to her pale mouth, she spoke only one more word, as much of a soft accusation as it was a sad question. "Murderer?"

"When necessary." The man never blinked, nor did his features at all change. A small inclination of his head was offered in acceptance of the title she'd bestown upon him, and presumably his companions as well, his eyes never leaving her glimmering ones. "It's difficult to eradicate all traces of tainted life, without actually **killing** anyone," he added, his voice hinting with a cynicism that hadn't been present before.

At that, Usagi turned her face from him, wiping at her eyes with the cuffs of her _kimono_. She had to be strong.. she had to draw that strength from the memory of her dear friends, she couldn't.. couldn't let herself cave into her grief and fear, not now, not now.. even without her crystal.. oh, _how could she have let them take it?_... not now, oh, not now.. when Trowa could look at her and speak of death so casually...

The mattress dipped under Trowa's weight, as he seated himself at the foot of the bed, long arms crossing over his chest. "You've cried so much, since we retrieved you," he mused gently, unexpectedly.

Angry that his words were so close to her own thoughts from earlier, Usagi blinked rapidly to dispel any lagging remnants of her emotional display; she had to get ahold of herself. "Of course I have," she said coldly, though the effect was likely lost to the lingering thickness in her voice. "I'm human, I'm not a robot. People **cry** when bad things happen to them, when they're sad and their chests hurt."

There was no need to add on that the extinguishing of the final shreds of hope she'd retained also helped to fuel the new signs of her misery; as soon as the young man departed again, it was more than likely her flimsy facade would deteriorate, and she'd mourn fully, for her inability to protect her friends, her _ginzuishou_, everyone.

"Ah.. You are, aren't you?" Tilt of his head had whatever expression that flickered over his visage hidden behind a veil of brown hair. "Though.. that response seems insubstantial, in the face of certain degrees of suffering, doesn't it..?" The soft murmurings ceased as Trowa looked to Usagi again, and pushed the tray further toward her. "Eat, Serenity."

As she eventually lifted the bowl between two small hands, and began spooning in mouthfuls with far less vigor than normally attributed her, the only thing Usagi could think about was how Makoto would always put generous dollops of whipped topping on her fruit salad back home.

The sweet mixture of fruit tasted as bland as chalk.

**x**

**x**

**x**

* * *

I know this segment was alittle shorter. Sorry, hope none of you were disappointed. D:

Hehe. Okay. Well! The next part should be out this Monday to come. Stay tuned!

And a great big thank you to those of you who reviewed! -loves on all of them-

**-Zangai**


	5. Echoes In Tenement Halls

**Chapter 5 - Echoes In Tenement Halls**

* * *

The days trickled by as slow as a muddy river, till time seemed all but meaningless; it could have been mere days since her arrival, perhaps weeks. Usagi didn't know, and despite her best efforts and most self-motivating speeches, didn't care.

Powerless and alone as she was, in this strange, creaking house with her five captors, Usagi spent almost the entirety of the passing time in her room, sleeping or laying quietly with her despair.

Trowa brought her meals three times a day and escorted her to the leu at the far end of the dark hall when necessary. Never once did he venture again to speak to her as poetically or as much as he had the first night of her capture and the morning after; his answers remained short and while not cruel, there was a certain detachment that was apparent behind his polite treatment of her. He revealed nothing and answered few of her questions, though always offered a quiet attentiveness when Usagi complained or vented her frustrations, which was rare. After all, he was one of the three men responsible for.. _their _deaths.

It was only the unavoidable need for social interaction of some kind that forced her to speak to him for any great length at all, and afterwards she always felt wretched and ashamed that she'd given him anything more than a frigid look and downturn of eyes.

As for the other four men, Usagi saw little of them; some days, she wondered if they were there at all. After her first day there, there had been no move made to lock her door again, which meant that at any time, she could have checked her suspicions... But, she'd had no real desire to know the answer to that question. Nor did she have any want to try and escape, even if it seemed so much easier, now that she wasn't physically trapped.

For where would she go? Whom would she turn to, for support and help? What would she do if she managed to flee this bitter place? Without the _ginzuishou_.. what chance did she have at striking back, at overthrowing her obviously insane captors and assuring peace for her world?

Things might have continued on this way, unchecked, for a longer span of time, had it not been for The Dream.

Though they started her first night resting, the dream was reoccurring, and for this, Usagi came to consider it as one dream, rather than as many. It began misty, fragmented, and undefined, leaving her to wake normally before the sun had shown itself over the horizon, confused and unsettled, but willing to attribute the sentiments to the circumstances she faced. As it slowly grew sharper with each eve that passed, so that scenarios began to show more clearly, painted vivid, horrifying detail, she had to acknowledge the fact that even her sleep plagued her.

When the night came that the dream played itself out in its gruesome entirety, thusly did Usagi realize it was no dream, or premonition, but a nightmare that had her waking with no breath to speak of, pale skin touched with a frightened perspiration, and shaking as an autumn leaf caught in a raging tempus.

She'd seen _their_ deaths. She'd seen _their_ pain. She'd seen _their_ terror. She'd seen _their_ inability to escape. She's seen the cruelty. She'd seen the mercy _they_'d been denied. She'd seen how _they_'d suffered, for her. She'd seen _their_ forms crumple. She'd seen the light leave _their_ eyes. She'd seen the sea of blood, and Wufei, Duo, and Trowa wading through it without so much as a backwards glance. She'd seen it all. She'd seen, and it had been too much, too much _toomuchtoomuchtoomuch_ and when she finally remembered to breathe, oh, how it hurt her chest and tore at her throat-

And it was then that Usagi wrenched herself from the sheets and covers that had tangled themselves about her legs when she slept, and she fell to the floor with a franticness that numbed the physical pain as she scrambled to her feet and to the bedroom's door.

Let them stop her, let them do as they would- she no longer cared.

She would escape, or she would die trying. It had come to this, and there was no other option left for her.

The upper floor was wholly silent, and her labored inhales and exhales created a strange cacaphony with the muffled thuds of her footfalls against the floor as she sped around the hallway's corner, retracing a path she had only once before taken. The darkened area of the stairs lay just up ahead of her, and it was there that she encountered the first of them.

Duo sat atop the first stair, arms folded over his knees, and a distant look drawn upon his face. In the moment it took for Usagi to register that he was blocking her path, he'd noted her presence.

His darkly clad, slender, wiry form had unfurled without any apparent effort, and he twisted toward her so that his braid swayed against the small of his back, violet eyes scanning her distraught, quivering frame. He seemed hesitant to approach her, though his voice remained light and unaffected, and he was quick to speak. "Well, you're sure up early. In the mood for some exercise before breakfast, or do you- what-! **HEY**!"

The hesitation had cost him. Without consideration for her own welfare, she'd sprinted forward, and onward to the path that led to her freedom. Despite her slight weight in comparison to Duo's, the momentum she'd gathered took the both of them down the stairs.

Upon striking the braided youth's chest, Usagi had instinctively clung to the front of his shirt as the two of them fell awkwardly, her eyes screwed shut and head tucked down and against his chest in an attempt to minimize the damage that was sure to follow. Duo's own arms wrapped about the narrow curves of her back and shoulders, his shout of surprise cutting off to low sounds of pain, as he took the brunt of the fall.

If Usagi had been more conscious of the man against her, she would have wondered what would cause him to purposely angle himself below her, and sustain the majority of impact- however, as they finally came to a halt at the base of the stairs in a jumble of limbs, her attention was instead fixated upon the ache that wracked her petite form and at disentangling herself from the currently groaning Duo.

"Ah- shit, _shit_." Eyes closed, he lifted a thin hand to claw at his right shoulder, and Usagi wasted no time in scampering off of him, which elicited another groan when her knee dug unpleasantly into his stomach.

"I'm sorry!" the disheveled, wincing blond very nearly wailed, despite the fact that she surely owed no apology to this man.

His gaze slid open just in time to see Usagi gathering the bottom of her _kimono_, before running off down the hall; she never heard the low rumble of amused laughter that her words caused him.

Through the empty parlor room and past the ragged couch she bolted, all but slamming against the closed front door as she came to a stop and twisted open the knob, before stumbling down the jagged, crumbling stone steps that led up to the grand building. The sky was gray, the dew that clung to the grass underfoot wetting her socks as she ran for the patch of trees and underbrush that fenced the surrounding area.

Branches scratched at her calves and arms, rocks and roots bit into the underside of her feet, and trees seemed to grab at the flowing loose material of her clothes and her long, golden tresses. More then once she lost her balance and fell. Yet every time, Usagi rose with a soft keen of determination, and continued on.

She was panting for air when she finally made it through to the sparse patches of grass and sand on the other side, and seeing the waves lapping at the turf just ahead spurred her forward again. The boat had to be nearby- though it was night when she arrived, she felt as though she recognized this place!

Damp soles pounded against the soft ground that eventually gave way to pure sand, but as she drew closer to the shoreline, her joy diminished to defeat.

**There was no boat**.

"No.. **No**. This isn't.. This isn't **fair**!" she hollered at the sea, cerulean eyes matching the gentle blue of the ocean in the pale light of early morning. Hands lifted in fists against her bosom as she ran to the edge of the water, looking from side to side to no avail, her hair blown back as streamers in the frigid wind.

Everyone was dead.

They had her _ginzuishou_.

She was tired of being helpless.

**She.**

**Couldn't.**

**Stay.**

**Here.**

The salt water was icy against her toes, against her ankles, against the curve of her calves as Usagi slowly began a descent into the sea.

"Girl."

She was almost up to her knees before she halted in place, a tired look given over a slumped shoulder when one of them called to her.

"The distance to mainland is too far for you to swim," Wufei spoke in a smooth drawl, words easily carrying through the distance that separated them. To her left and back, he was, arms at his sides and posture at ease, though black eyes never lessoned their contemptuous appraisal of her. "You'll die of either hypothermia, or exhaustion, long before you reach even midway."

"I don't care!" Usagi shouted back, tearing her sight away from him and looking back out over the stretch of immeasurable ocean. "I won't let you stop me!" She strode forward, her skin prickling with a cold-induced numbness.

It was difficult to tell, but she was fairly sure she heard him snort over the sound of the wind and waves. "How pathetic." Though he chastised, his tone held nothing of surprise, and appeared as though he had no intention of 'stopping her.' "You're behavior is no better than a child's."

Usagi froze at that, the sea lapping at mid-thigh and _kimono_ swirling around her, hands still clenched to her chest, and brow furrowing. "Who..." She spun around, water sloshing around her as she drug herself halfway back, before pointing an accusatory finger at Wufei. "Who do you think you are! I didn't **ask** to be kidnapped, I didn't **ask** for any of this!"

"No man can choose his Fate- he can only do his best to shape it. And those who do not even try are cowards," Wufei said coldly, making Usagi initially flinch.

"What is there **left** to shape?" She gave a violent wave of her arms, and her anguished voice sounded foreign to her own ears. "You've killed all of my friends- my destiny, **our** destiny, was together. A-and it's not anymore, it's been destroyed, and I couldn't _**do**_ anything! And I'm here now, and I still can't do anything, so I..." Flashes of the nightmare were brought to life in her mind's eye, and she paused to swallow down her pain. "I don't know what to do."

For the first time, there was a crack in the arrogant man's cool countenance, as almond shaped eyes widened, and brows arched. "So _that_ is what this is about?"

Usagi didn't seem to notice that he had spoken, as she shook her head, casting another look at the sea, as her words grew softer. "You guys have the _ginzuishou_.. you don't really need me anymore. So let me go, okay?" Something akin to a saddened smile was aimed at Wufei, who had yet to reply. "I don't think I can forgive you for what you did, and you can think badly of me for my decision, but.. we can still say goodbye kindly to each other."

"...Oh, this is _rich_."

"...Excuse me?" Usagi stared blankly up where the imposing man stood, having been rendered utterly confused by what he'd said; his response was not the correct one for this situation.

Wufei began a lethargic, fluid pace toward her, the sand hardly stirring beneath the thin, black shoes he wore. "Whether we do or do not need you any longer is irrelevant; Heero _wants_ to keep you, and that's all that matters," he stated flatly. "So if there was any doubt that your speech was a waste of breath, girl, let me assure you that it was."

"**You**- **You**- **You**-" Usagi's cheeks flushed red in her embarrassment at Wufei's utter rejection of her heartfelt words, and she stuttered with a complimentary flare of anger. "You are the meanest, rudest guy I have ever seen in my life! You are horrible and you-"

"And to clear this up so that we don't have any reoccurrences of this scenario," Wufei went on, silken voice rising in pitch so as to drown out the small blond as he neared her, "Your friends are _not_ dead."

Time seemed to stop, and Usagi's world went abruptly out of focus, as she somehow found the voice to whisper, "What did you say?"

_Your friends..._

Everything left her in one trembling exhale: the grief, the anger, the sadness, the loneliness, the despair, the deathwish.

She wanted so dearly to believe him, this man who had put a gun to her head, who'd taken her, who she'd _loathed_, believing he'd helped kill the people she loved so much... This man...

_...are not dead._

"Our orders were to deliver you. Seeing that your friends proved to be of little consequence to the mission, there was no reason for us to harm them," he reiterated, punctuating his words with a snort of derision.

Gracelessly, she fell to her knees in the shallows, hands falling limply into her lap, and teary eyes staring down at them, unseeing. "I can't tell what's truth, anymore," Usagi said quietly. _Kami-sama_... she was so very, very tired. When was the last time she had slept decently..? She couldn't think straight, couldn't think clearly beyond five words her captor had spoken.

Heero's words, Duo's words, Trowa's words.. they all implied other then what Wufei was saying, didn't they? But.. but.. they hadn't.. they never said outright... _she'd assumed_.. but how was she to have known!

Wufei seemed to understand that Usagi was in no shape to do anything, at the moment; she was exhausted and drained physically and emotionally, and he didn't bother trying to get her to walk to the house. Instead, he simply came to stand before her and crouched down, straightening with her delicate, wet body in his arms.

Usagi offered no resistance as she laid a head on his shoulder, the grip under her knees and against her back firm but far from harsh, a blatant opposite to the uncaring tone Wufei used to address her- he held her as though she were made of _**glass**_, and it made her want to _**cry**_, for the terrible things she had thought about him and the others.

Lost to her thoughts, she didn't realize they had made it back in the mansion. Wufei carried her into the parlor area, and stood with her in front of the old sofa as he spoke to Duo. "Move, Maxwell."

"Move?" the braided youth echoed, scowling visibly as he looked from Wufei to Usagi. "For what?"

Wufei was unfazed. "For the girl."

"And where am I supposed to sit? Hello, I **am** the injured one here," Duo said disagreeably, pointing a finger at the limp arm and swollen shoulder it was attached to.

"Pick a spot on the floor."

Grumbling, he complied, and Wufei deposited Usagi onto the couch, where she settled unmoving against the cushions, blue gaze downcast and unresponsive.

"What's wrong with her?" Duo asked, easing down onto the bare hardwood of the floor.

"Mild shock, due to emotional stress and exhaustion. I'd have Winner give you a more detailed account, but as we both know, he's with Barton and Yuy," came the drawled response, as Wufei moved to sit beside him. "Take off your shirt."

"Huh... Okay. Sorry I asked," he said lowly, before tugging at his shirt, his adopted merriment giving way to an abrupt hiss of pain as he was forced to ease the material off the injured arm, before presenting the limb for Wufei to inspect.

"Hm."

"Ow-! What the-! Would you **stop** messing with it! It's dislocated, geez, even I could tell ya that!" Duo yelped, obviously not finding Wufei's tactile examination to be helpful in the least.

"A basic assessment before setting the arm is required," Wufei intoned with a bored air, as though accustomed to his companion's vocalizations of his irritation. "Brace yourself."

"Aw, man, can't we wait for Quatre to get back before we-" With a sharp cracking sort of sound, Wufei had set Duo's shoulder back into place, an act that was promptly followed by a rough yell of pain and string of expletives from the injured youth.

Rising and starting for the hallway, Wufei called back, "I'll go get a sling. Keep an eye on the girl."

"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha." Keeping his arm tucked in close to his body, Duo remained as he was on the floor, until curiosity got the better of him, and he rose onto his knees so that he was kneeling before the couch, and where the yet silent Usagi lie. "Hey, anyone home, blondie?" Good hand was used to snap his fingers before her lowered gaze.

Drawn from her uncharacteristically withdrawn and mute state, her sight followed the retreat of his digits, and Usagi came to stare at Duo's large, violet eyes, at his crooked grin, and then down at the bruised shoulder and obvious way he was nursing the appendage. "Oh, Duo... I'm **so** sorry!" she said suddenly and emphatically, sitting upright and looking at him as though the world might end there and then, if he didn't accept her apology.

"Heard ya the first time," Duo said with a nonchalant, one sided shrug, as he gave a short nod in the direction of the stairwell. "Ya know, this just goes to further prove that you weigh alot, and that you're a health-hazard."

Her lovely eyes filled with tears, and her lips quivered.

"Uh..." Pausing with uncertainty, Duo's features blanked as he studied Usagi, and he made a nervous sort of sound. "You aren't gonna.. you know.. cry again, are you?"

Though her eyes were still shining brightly, Usagi didn't cry. Instead, she did something she hadn't done in all the time she had been brought to this strange, unknown place. She smiled, then she laughed, and then she threw her arms around Duo's scrawny neck, and hugged him for all she was worth: everyone was in need of a hug now and again, even if it was with a guy who wasn't _quite_ as evil as she'd thought him to be.

For now, with the rebirth of her friends, so had hope been reborn within her.

"**Ow**, my **shoulder**!"

She knew her friends would come for her. She knew she would get her _ginzuishou_ back. She knew she would kick Heero Yuy's butt for ever putting the idea into anyone's head that her world needed to be destroyed.

And she knew she would get out of here.

**x**

**x**

**x**

* * *

Okay! Five is finally up! Sorry it's a little later then I promised. x.x

I'm going to be moving sometime within the next few weeks.. so, the next chapter may take longer then this one did, to get put up. Please have patience!

**A huge enourmous monstrously big thank you to all my reviewers!** You guys make my day so much better! I'm so glad that so many of you like where the story's going.

Love!

**- Zangai**


	6. These Are the Nights

**Chapter 6 - These Are the Nights**

* * *

Usagi was no longer alone. Her friends and she had always been able to overcome anything. It didn't matter that air and sea and miles separated them. Together, and together, they were still connected in this world, and nothing could stop them from coming for her; granted, a good deal of time had already passed since her capture, but that was to be expected. They had no idea where she'd been taken, after all.

Heero, in short, had **lied**- and Usagi was beginning to learn that twisted words and half-revealed truths weren't to be taken at face value. _Nothing_ was certain, unless it was directly stated, and even then she knew to now be wary.

The invisible weight that had been pressing down upon her chest, around her throat, over her mouth, _smothering_ her... it had been lifted, when Wufei brought her a shard of clarity in this otherwise bleak existence. Aside from the more obvious revelation he had afforded her, there was something else she came to understand because of his words.

Duo, Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei were **not** cold-blooded murderers.

The moon princess wasn't foolish enough to believe they weren't _capable_ of killing; the way they handled their guns and had executed her capture and subsequent relocation to this remote mansion was proof enough of that fact. Taking further into consideration Trowa's promise that they _would_ and _could_ kill when needed, even one as innocently optimistic and trusting as Usagi couldn't actually think they were anything but professional and well versed in their chosen craft.

But, when it came down to it, there was only one shred of truth that remained after tossing out assumptions.

Everything that had been said pointed to Heero as the only contributing force behind this unexplained plan (minus the fact that they intended to somehow use her _ginzuishou_) to destroy the world. All that the four others did was a result of some order or command Heero had given, and he was the one directing their actions.

She'd seen it before, countless times in the past with the enemies that would do harm to those and that which she cared about...

_Zirconia_... _Kisenian_... _Chaos_... _Wise-man_, and poor, misguided _**Diamond**_...

It was unforgivable, to manipulate other people into conducting evil acts.

After returning to her room and peeling away the sand caked and sea soaked remnants of her socks and carelessly tossing them into a corner of the bare-boned room she had been living in, Usagi had fallen into the best sleep of her life- or, at the very least, the best sleep she could remember having in the past weeks.

There was no dream, there was no nightmare, only the blessed, blanket of calm that embodies the sleep of small children, gentle animals, and the innocent.

Such peacefulness was not to last, however.

At the first hints of stirring that marked the end of her wonderful rest, she rolled over and flopped her head down more deeply into the plush pillow. But, the nagging, unrelenting feeling that lurked at the edge of consciousness would not abate, and it was only so long before she lost the battle. Groaning, a balled hand rubbed at one sleepy eye, and it was mid-yawn that she came to find out what sort of disturbance had caused her sleep to end. Choking on the slow inhale that had snagged in her throat, Usagi gave a sharp cough before sitting upright, quickly drawing the covers up around her in an instinctive act of modesty.

The room was dark, for night had fallen as she'd slept the day away...

And unmistakable was the black shape that sat unmoving in the chair tucked into the corner of the room, the shadowy outline that of a thin, rigid, young man.

One of them were in her room, and had been watching her sleep.

Utterly creeped out by that realization, Usagi hunched down even as she pulled the covers up higher so that they were just under her nose when she finally got over the wave of embarrassment and shock to speak. "...Pervert."

For a moment, she thought he hadn't heard her, as nothing about his posture changed.

"Hn."

It was almost funny, how one tiny sound, one low grunt, could cause her to wish that he hadn't heard her, and that she had instead ignored his presence and feigned sleep; it was impossible to appear adequately dignified or challenging when the Head Enemy caught one in her knickers, hiding like a child under a tent of blankets. This was only the second time she had the displeasure of holding 'audience' with him, and again the engagement had her at a clear disadvantage.

"I bet you do this alot, huh? Kidnap girls, and spy on them while they sleep," Usagi goaded, making a show of tucking the covers more tightly around her hips and across the width of her torso, chin peeking out over the top and firmly pinning down the edge of the duvet to her chest while her hands worked. "What a.. What a loser."

"I don't make it a habit of kidnapping women, Princess," Heero responded monotonously from his place across the room; his dark outline never shifted, and the voice sounded almost disembodied.

"So you kidnap guys?" Bold, her words were, and she knew it- Usagi gave a flippant trill of laughter, nervousness thinly veiled beneath the off-key sound.

"...Do not test my patience." The temperature in the room seemed to drop five or ten degrees, with the way he said that.

"Where were you today?" she blurted out abruptly, so that it came out more like a whine and less like a demand for an answer.

Either way, Heero indulged her, his response short and as quickly given as her quesiton had been. "Tokyo."

_Home_. Ami-_chan_. Rei-_chan_. **Mamo-_chan_**. Her heart clutched, and she forced herself to remain staring into the dark and at the darker shape that lacked any real detail due to the absence of light. "Why were you there?"

"Reconnaissance."

"Reconnaissance..?" Usagi echoed softly.

"Trowa, Quatre, and I were there to gather information to better formulate our attack plans against the city." At that explanation, there seemed to be some emotion present- a quiet sort of smugness, that had Usagi's brows pinching, and her tiny hands fisting around the covers.

"I'm going to get my _ginzuishou_ back before you have the chance to use it," she said with an upward inclination of her face, though she was fairly certain he could no better see her than she him. "I just thought you should know that."

There was the gruff grunt again, followed by low, blunt undertones of, "You aren't." Heero's denial of her claim was tactless.

Usagi leaned forward, inspired by thoughts of her friends, and by the determination that once again lived within her. "Uh, _yeah_, I am," she retorted with more than her share of sarcasm.

Rather then rise to her bait, the silhouette of the man simply moved lightly in his seat, before replying again in the nasal, inflectionless voice, "The _ginzuishou_ isn't an absolute necessity for the world's destruction- it will simply provide a cleaner, simpler procedure once I discover how to properly harness the power. With or without it, I will still destroy everything."

"Not if I get it back you aren't!" Usagi argued, before one of her hands left it's position clutching at the material swaddled about her, to instead rise as a self-empowering fist in front of her, to better support her passionate words of resistance. "I'll use it to stop you."

Words never before held such deadly calm or lack of emotion, when spoken... nor had they ever before been stated with such contrasting conviction, that the small, bed-ridden blond actually shivered upon their utterance. "I'll kill you before you have that chance."

She.. She wouldn't let him intimidate her! "Th-they said that you want me here. That you want to _keep_ me," Usagi insisted, somehow finding her nerve and mustering up the courage to speak.

"I do," Heero agreed, never missing a beat.

Her logic had now been assured. With that thought in mind, what she next said came quite easier, and the underlying victory was not so easily suppressed before she replied, "So.. That means you _won't_ kill me!"

There was no forewarning, no snarl or vicious murmuring, no vocalization of whatever chord she'd managed to strike with that declaration, before Heero was upon her, all tight muscle and unforgiving, hard weight, terrible fury and pressing strength. He descended upon her as a demon upon an innocent, and Usagi hadn't even time enough to cry out in the fear she surely felt.

The covers were knocked aside when he attacked her, and all she knew was that he was atop her, around her, holding her down with hardly an effort- a knee was between her legs, the man's leaning form pinning down one of her thighs beneath his heavier one, marking the only real contact their bodies shared aside from the two large hands wrapped around her delicate, slender neck.

Usagi's own hands flailed, struggling to slip beneath the constricting sheath he'd formed around her throat, to alleviate the crushing grip that cut off any flow of air and began bruising her pale flesh with the first moment of contact. Her attempts faltered, and her eyes widened in absolute horror when she looked to the man strangling her with mute precision- at this distance, she could see his features for the first time in detail since their first meeting.

There was _nothing_ upon that flawless visage that stared back down at her. There was no rage, there was no satisfaction, no sadistic pleasure derived from this murderous act, no remorse as his hands constricted and there eyes met, separated by no more than perhaps a foot. Heero was as an automation, his dark eyes showing nothing, other than a reflection of her own fear back down at her.

"Understand me," he said with a vast emptiness, as though there had never been any real belief that such was possible. His fingers dug more deeply into her soft skin as he squeezed all the harder, so that Usagi's mouth opened soundlessly, and her eyes pinched to near closing. "Life is cheap. It gets very old, very quickly. For that, I will not allow those undeserving to continue living. Understand me, understand this, Princess: my only purpose in this world is to **kill**."

Heero's vice-like grip again tightened, and Usagi felt the burning for lack of air and pain for the damage he was inflicting upon her neck give way to a light headedness that teased with the promise of unconsciousness that would relieve her of this torture... It was in that moment that she was on the brink of relief that he suddenly drew away from her, leaving her laying there, coughing and struggling to breath, trembling violently and choking on the flood of emotion that followed in the wake of his assault.

Weakly, Usagi lifted herself partially, looking to him through her tears as she fought for breath; his back was to her now, as though she were nothing but an abandoned play-thing upon the bed. "_Why_-" she rasped, shuddering, "Why are.. why are you doing this to me?"

She didn't think he would answer her; she'd called to his retreating form, had managed to wring out the words just as he was pulling open the door to her room.

Heero paused, however, and twisted in the elegantly simple manner that pervaded all of his motions, all of the motions of the men who resided there. The light from the hallway flooded her room, hallowed around the man so that he was entirely visible; and now there was something flashing within the endless depths of his eyes, something that seemed so _familiar_ and so _foreign_ that Usagi couldn't look away through her tear-clouded vision.

"No Computer, nor Flame of Revelation, nor Chronos' Eye will help them. They will not find you," he said evenly, as still as death. "The security measures I have taken ensure this-"

"Why..." Usagi whispered fervently, still trembling as she forced herself to remain propped up on her elbows, refusing to allow herself to be prostrated in his presence.

"Will you give yourself to the sea again, Princess?-" he continued, his voice low and droning, unrelenting.

"Why-"

"I'll accompany you-"

"Why-"

"And hold you down-"

"_Why_-"

"Beneath the waves."

"_**Why**_?"

Heero turned from her, breaking their gaze as he strode from the room.

"**Why**?" Usagi shrieked, her gentle voice cracking under the stress, shoulders still shaking as she cried.

Though he didn't move any further, the silence that followed her sharp call was almost unbearable- but his words were even moreso. "Because," the leader's shoulders tensed, and for some reason, Usagi was so desperately relieved that he was no longer looking at her, and that she couldn't see his emotionless countenance when he finally answered before leaving, "I hate you more than you'll ever comprehend... I hate you almost as much as I hate _her_."

**x**

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Oh... I had to update! I don't know when I'll next get a chance to, what with the moving I'm in the process of doing. ;.;

I don't know that this is the nicest place to leave you all off on... Things aren't looking to good for Usagi, the poor little _odango-atama_. -hugs on the heroine- And I think that Heero is just raising more questions than he's answering, at this point...

I'll try to finish the next chapter before the week's over, so I can leave you all with one more chapter before the big move.. But I don't know if that's possible.

I'll do my best! Those of you who review or just quietly enjoy the story are the best!

-hugs and cookies for everyone!-

**- Zangai**


	7. And Here Are We

**Chapter 7 - And Here Are We**

* * *

It was a gentle touch that drew her from her sleep the morning after, a warm pressure against the curve of her cover-clad shoulder, accompanied by the softly spoken name that once seemed almost foreign, and that she now answered to more readily than she would have ever expected. "Serenity."

"T-Trowa?" the young woman croaked out as she shifted into a position halfway to sitting up, immediately after lifting a hand in a defensive gesture against her aching throat. Through faintly blurred vision, she saw the man in question nod his head lightly before carefully easing her breakfast tray onto the stretch of bed before her.

Silence followed, as Usagi took a brief moment to sit up and draw her tray onto her lap, making a half-hearted effort to keep her bed sheet wrapped around her shoulders to cover that which her undershirt failed to hide, while Trowa's lanky form found rest against the patch of wall beside the bedroom's door.

The chair Heero had occupied the night before remained as it was, overturned and out of place against the bare floor, and wholly ignored by Trowa. And though Usagi mutely searched the tall youth's downcast features, the same disregard was awarded her, and the telltale mark of bruises that surely encircled her neck like bands of a collar.

However, the breakfast of herbal tea and warm gruel sweetened with honey, substituted in place of the usual meal said enough. The others, or at the very least Trowa, knew what had come to pass, and would therefore raise no questions.

The consideration that Trowa had displayed by the breakfast he presented her brightened Usagi's spirit (as it was further proof that her captors, sans Heero, weren't evil), and though she was forced to eat more slowly than she would have liked (due to the state of her throat), her vigor was undiminished, and soon she'd polished off the bowl's contents and sipped contentedly at the mug of tea.

"You shouldn't provoke him."

Usagi's gaze flashed upward, and back to the stationary frame that leaned against the wall; nothing about Trowa's posture had changed, though his own eyes slowly lifted to find hers. "It's not like I meant to," she replied dejectedly, lowering her hands and cradling the cup between them.

"He.. rarely displays such.. fury," Trowa went on haltingly, as though he were treading into territory that made him uneasy; hearing him speak in a way so opposite to the eloquent manner he had so effortlessly demonstrated in the past was unsettling. "However, given these.. circumstances..."

Usagi wasn't so sure 'fury' was the right word to describe that which Heero had embodied, though she said nothing to the contrary as she turned her attention back down to her tea. She had said something to cause him to react in such a terrifyingly violent way, and yet... there had never been a single spark of any emotion in his eyes, in his tone, in him throughout the attack.

"Circumstances?" she finally echoed, looking to Trowa again, "You mean because of how much.. he hates me?" There was an uncomfortable sort of pull at her heart with those words; being hated without knowing why, and for having done nothing wrong had a way of getting to her, even if said hatred came from an enemy who'd kill her without a second thought.

There was no answer forthcoming.

"Trowa, why does Heero hate me so much?" Usagi pressed quietly, head bowing as trembling fingers brushed their tips over her injured throat. "I didn't mean to.. to hurt him that first night he spoke to me, really, I didn't!" She shook her head, brows furrowed together. "Is that why he-"

"No. He knows what came to pass was no fault of yours," Trowa said lowly. "And I cannot answer your first question."

Usagi couldn't help but wonder if, though he couldn't answer, he knew the reason all the same.

He gathered her empty bowl and mug in a fashion that had become ritualistic to his tending of her meals, and it was just as he lifted the tray that Usagi spoke to him again, her voice still so very soft and full of questioning. "Trowa, why are you here? Why are any of you here?"

"I believe you already know the answer to that question, Serenity," he responded evenly and just as quietly, as he shifted the tray across the length of one forearm, and reached for the door's handle.

"No, I don't mean because of.. of what Heero said, or because you follow Heero. There's more to it, there's **got** to be more to all of this," Usagi said quickly, shaking her head as she looked to him. "Why?" she murmured tremulously, repeating her desperate plea from the night earlier. "Why are you here? Why does it have to be this way? Why must this world end...?"

There was no answer rewarded to her, as Trowa turned and stepped through the opened door, either unable or unwilling to reply.

"Please! Please tell me! I want to-" The final word stuck to her tongue, even as a tremor of memory wracked her petite form. Heero had beseeched this of her last night, as he slowly wrung the life from her body; he'd told her to understand.

And asking for that which he'd demanded of her was frightening.

The click of the door settling back into place in its frame lingered in the otherwise still air, marking Trowa's departure as much as it did Usagi's lapse back into solitude.

She had grown accustomed to the drawn out hours that separated meals, and to being alone during this time. However, these periods before had been filled with desolation and mourning for the lives of her dear ones she'd thought lost. Now, left with a far less depressing mindset, Usagi's focus revolved around retrieving her crystal, escaping, and ending Heero's psychotic scheme and tyranny over the other men in the house. But, given her lack of resources in all these areas, her own planning wasn't going half as well as she would have liked...

Hadn't she always turned to Ami-_chan_ when brain-power was needed? Though she'd never taken for granted her genius-friend's thinking skills, Usagi never realized how much she relied on them until she went through the same plan twice in the same hour, both times finding the mental blueprints ended in pre-meditated failure.

More than anything, Usagi wished that someone was here with her, one of her _senshi_ and best friends.. It wouldn't be so bad if she had someone else to help her.. And more than anything, she wanted Mamoru to tell her that everything was going to be okay in the end.

Sighing, she decided to take a break from her unsuccessful plotting and unproductive bout of thinking; the sooner she got out of here, the better, but it wasn't as though she were working with time constraints, and getting frustrated wouldn't do her any good.. And she was fairly certain that she wasn't going to find any spare bottles of acid lying around in the kitchen cupboards (the prime ingredient to the first batch of failed escape plans, as it were).

Without a task to occupy herself with, boredom threatened to set in. Such was not to be though, for at the very moment Usagi was ready to fling herself across the length of her bed and stare upside down at the bare, bland walls of her room, there came an unexpected knock on her door.

Before she had even a chance to reply, the guest made himself known; Duo stepped into the room, followed closely behind by what appeared to be a trunk of some sort. The braided youth nursed one arm within the confines of a cloth sling, and half-way hunched over, he was dragging the large, oak unit with one hand, struggling only slightly under its weight.

Peering up through the uneven fringe of brown hair that fell across his brow, he huffed loudly before dropping his cargo entirely, and settled the now freed hand on the jut of one hip as he straightened. "Man, see what I gotta go through for you?" he sighed with a shake of his head, "Where else would you get service like this, I ask you?"

"...Five star hotels, and they don't kidnap-"

"Rhetorical question, it was a rhetorical question!" Duo cut in with another huff.

Usagi swallowed down the rest of what she'd been about to add, and inched to the edge of her bed to have a better look at what he'd brought. An instinctive pout of self-pity pulled at the curves of her lips when she considered all the nasty sort of things a chest like the one Duo was hovering over had the potential of carrying.

Noticing that Duo hadn't in fact moved from his position, her gaze flittered from the trunk to the man beside it, worry adding to the expression she wore so that her thin brows were beginning to pinch together.

"Well? Aren't you going to ask me what it is?" He sounded a bit exasperated, when he finally spoke again.

"No, thank you," she countered politely; her neck still hurt, after all.

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Duo dropped to his knees, before fiddling with the front of the trunk with his good hand. "See? This is why Quatre shoulda been the one to come in here with this crap. It's so not fair that I'm the guy that always gets stuck with this stuff," he griped.

Usagi thought it best to let him complain to himself undisturbed. Slowly, she was curling around her drawn-in knees, as though she might shield herself from whatever it was the darkly clad youth was going to unleash in her room. Though she still considered Duo one of the four men who weren't wholly bad, she could hardly ignore what had come to pass in her room the night prior- for all she knew, Heero had ordered Duo to come and torture her some more.

An audible, rusty sort of click was given, as was a victorious bark of laughter from Duo. "There we go.. and.. done." The lid was flung back, and Usagi gave a squeal before burying her face in the folds of her arms and the tops of her knees.

"What the- Will you knock it off? Geez!"

She shook her head, still hidden, and gave a muffled, "Nuh-uh."

"Cut it out! Look.. Look, dammit! I didn't go through all this trouble just so you could sit there playing hedgehog! Will you look already?"

Hesitantly, she lifted her face, and slowly cracked open her right eye to see what awaited her. Still kneeling before the chest, Duo had twisted enough that the section of brightly colored material he held up in a fist was visible.

In disbelief, Usagi gazed at the pile of garments that the trunk housed. Vestments of every imaginable color were displayed, soft and glossy in the light of the afternoon sun that spilled through her window. Her mouth drooped open faintly, so that a tiny 'o' shown on her pale visage.

"Now you're impressed, huh? You better be," Duo said with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes, as he gingerly removed one of the vestments and laid it out on the bed next to her. The style was contrastingly clinging and flowing, from the look of it, cut to favor a woman's want for modesty in particular areas, though far more revealing in other less sensual spots of the body. Shimmering aqua and deeper blues were sewn together in a way that made the dress appear almost gypsy like in nature, if not for the shortness to the layers of skirt.

Before she'd had more than a few seconds time to gaze in rapture over the prettyness of it, another was thrown atop of it, the color a blend of shimmering purples and browns, cut in a likewise fashion that was asymmetrical as it was foreign, and promptly followed by one of silver and green, another of gold and pink, another of red and black, another of yellow and blue, onward and onward as a rainbow waterfall until the trunk was quite empty and her bed quite full of the dresses.

And all the while, Usagi's transfixed stare grew wider and wider, and she only remembered to blink once Duo had shut the lid to the trunk once more and taken a seat on the top of it.

"_Wow_." She could not tear her gaze from the assortment of dresses that were heaped upon her mattress, her tiny hands itching to bury themselves into the pile of clothing, though she hesitated. "Are these.. for **me**..?"

"Yep."

"Where did they come from? I've never seen anything like these...!" Usagi let out a sigh of delight as she lifted one of the dresses delicately, the cloth nearly weightless. "Ohh... Are these from Paris?"

"Hah!" Duo let out a bray of laughter, "As though any of Them could fashion up these designs." He gave an amused shake of his head. "You'll have to ask Trowa who exactly tailored these... might have been Cathy..." The braided youth grew oddly silent, and if Usagi hadn't been quite so preoccupied with inspecting the dresses, she may have questioned it.

"Oh, I bet they're **all** my size!" Usagi gushed, holding one of the dresses against her chest and pulling at the waist to see if it would fit about her. Euphoric and impulsive, she dropped the garment and began to immediately tug down the ruined _kimono_ she'd donned a few hours ago.

"What- HEY- I'm still here!" Duo stared slack jawed at her, utterly confused by her behavior and frozen in place.

Though she'd yet to actually expose herself, Usagi let out a tiny shriek, bunching the material up against her chest, her cheeks a glowing shade of crimson. "Turn AROUND!" she hollered, embarrassed. "Stop LOOKING!"

"I'm sorry!" Duo hollered back at her, eyes widening before he slapped a palm over them. "I didn't see anything worth seeing, I swear!"

"I SAID TURN AROUND!" Usagi howled, her voice ringing in the room, her embarrassment reaching new heights at Duo's choice of words.

"It's not like I told you to start stripping!" He lifted his uninjured arm, wagging a reproaching finger at her... Unfortunately, the hand that was covering his eyes was the one he gestured with, and though his eyes remained tightly shut, this did little to dissuade the hysteria.

Usagi's wails reached new octaves.

Neither had heard the sound of the door opening, to signal Quatre's entrance, which was understandable given the scene he'd walked in on, as was the incredulous expression he wore.

"What is going on in here...?"

Usagi and Duo both silenced, looking to him. Quatre seemed paler then the first time she'd met him, his fair locks disheveled and the sea green eyes, flickering between them with mute inquiry, seemed a bit dull above the dark half circles of exhaustion residing under them. Weary and somewhat gaunt, he still retained the air of welcoming amiability when his sight met Usagi's.

She lifted her arm, leveling a condemning finger toward the braided youth's face. "Duo tried to get a free peep-show!"

"Free peep-show implies there's actually something worth paying for - and I'd beg to differ on that point," Duo retorted through the snide grin he aimed her way.

Quatre sighed, thin hands rubbing at his temples, as though trying to alleviate a headache, as it became apparent that the two would be quite content to resume their argument, with or without his presence. "Duo, please take the chest back to the cellar." Though he'd issued the request very politely and calmly, there was a definite note of finality.

"With pleasure." Grabbing one of the handles, Duo dragged the empty chest back through the doorframe, Quatre stepping lightly out of his way. Duo did pause however, looking back long enough to make a face at Usagi - his jaw jutted out as his lower lip tugged down at the corners, and he crossed his eyes.

Not to be outdone, Usagi stuck out her tongue, the tips of her index fingers pulling down her lower eye lids.

With a small shake of his head, Quatre closed the door so as to physically block the two of them off from one another. "There now... That's better," he stated softly after a moment. Clasping his hands loosely before him, Quatre smiled warmly. "Let's put your dresses away, shall we?"

Without waiting for her response, Quatre gathered up an armful of the garments and made his way to the armoire. The rays of the sun trickling in through the windows cast a warm, golden sheen on the pale youth as he pulled open the wide, oak doors and began situating her dresses on the hangers within.

His features were so gentle, lines of laughter the only creases showing at the corners of his sea-green eyes, his tousled, corn-silk hair practically luminous in the sunlight. Usagi could only stand there staring, once again finding herself questioning how someone like Quatre - kind and friendly, angelically handsome and so polite - could associate himself with someone like Heero... Her tender heart ached for Quatre, and for the three others who were so willing to follow a remorseless killer into Hell, simply because he bade them to follow.

Quatre paused, his hand absently smoothing the layers of one of the dresses still draped over a slender forearm... his shoulders had suddenly grown rigid, and when his eyes found hers, an echo of her own pain, mingled with confusion, shown in their depths. A forlorn smile lifted the edges of his lips as he walked slowly back toward her, laying additional dresses over the ones he already carried, and wordlessly filling her arms with the remainder. "Come, let's work together, we will have this chore finished in no time."

Forcing herself to smile back at him, Usagi nodded, and the two set about the task of filling the once empty wardrobe.

"Have you decided which to wear first, Serenity?" Quatre asked pleasantly.

For some reason, Usagi had a feeling that small talk was to simply distract her from dwelling on her prior line of thoughts, though she wasn't sure why... If that was his ploy, it certainly worked. "Oh, yes! I'm going to wear this one, it's perfect," Usagi said, tugging at the skirts of one of the ensembles. She smiled widely, her fingers toying with the soft fabric. It had been such an unexpectedly touching gesture, to receive gorgeous, fresh clothing from her captors, after having been forced to wear the same thing for days and days on end... It was only now that the large armoire was slowly filling up with the mountain of dresses that it dawned on her...

She was likely going to be here for quite some time, if the number of outfits was any indication.

They both grew silent, focused on filling the wardrobe with the exotic clothing.

"Quatre..?"

"Hmm?" Having finished with the dresses he'd carried over, he set to work on the ones Usagi still held.

"Can't you call me just.. just Usagi?" She felt the tiniest spark of nervousness in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't an outlandish request by any means - and yet, it seemed so odd to have to ask.

"Just... Usagi?" Quatre repeated back to her, eyebrows quirked quite high, the remainder his expression revealing nothing of his internal thoughts on the matter.

"Yeah..." She nodded enthusiastically, feeling her cheeks heating with a blush from the odd way he was looking at her. She busied herself with the dresses, the ones she'd hung up appearing in sloppy disarray next to Quatre's orderly line. "Nobody calls me Serenity. Back home, I'm just..."

_Silly! _

_Usagi-chan! _

_Dumpling-Head! _

_Dear friend! _

_**Usako**..._

"Just Usagi," Quatre finished for her, his sweet voice fully comprehending.

She nodded quickly as she fiddled with a clothes hanger. "Do you ever miss.. your home, Quatre?" Heero had said he was from Earth - he never mentioned anything of the others. Usagi wondered where exactly 'home' was, for these individuals, and if it was also Earth.

"Of course I do. We all do... The others may not admit to it so readily, but I know that there is a longing for home that can't ever entirely be erased. There are days when each of us have been absolutely homesick..." Quatre's hand fluttered to press against his chest, over his heart for a moment.

It was almost impossible, thinking of Wufei, of Trowa, of Duo, as being as wretched and sorrowful as she felt when she missed her home and all of her friends. And yet, hearing Quatre speak like this, knowing that deep down the four men were capable of feeling exactly as she did...

"Things were so different there... Scholarly pursuits, artistry, poetry. Wufei and I were at the top of our class. And Trowa was so gifted..." He continued, caught up in his reminiscing. "Duo couldn't be bothered to apply himself fully to any one subject or area- _Life is too short_, he would say, _to pick just one_!"

"I..." Usagi began, unable to finish her sentiment.

_I want to go home..._

There was no reason to say it. What she wanted didn't matter against what she must do, to protect everyone, to save Quatre, Trowa, Duo, and even Wufei...

She knew they weren't so different from her, and as Quatre spoke, he painted an entirely different portrait from the one she'd initially seen of these men. He might have been talking about her own dear friends! If only she could show them that they didn't have to obey Heero's insane orders.

"All of us, smiling! Can you imagine! Laughter and music..." There was a poignant silence, and Quatre laughed breathlessly. It wasn't a happy sound. "But," Quatre closed the doors of the armoire, the sound dissipating the nostalgia he'd invoked. "All of us know that the importance of Heero's goal greatly outweighs any bought of homesickness we may experience."

"It doesn't have to, Quatre."

He smiled indulgently, but she interrupted him before he could respond.

"No, listen to me, just for a moment," she began softly, urgently. "It doesn't have to at all..." Usagi grabbed one of his hands between her own, shaking her head in plain denial of what he'd said of this mission of Heero's being more important than his desire for his home. "There is nothing more important then family and friends! The people we love should always be the most important! But even the people you don't know, or don't care about-"

"Usagi-"

She kept going, refusing to let him attempt to justify the title of Harbinger of Destruction that Heero was prepared to bestow upon them all. "Even the people you don't care about, they're important too! You can't just forget about them, or that they have homes and friends that they love. You can't forget that! It's not okay to! If we don't remember them, or devote even a tiny piece of our hearts to them, then who will?"

"Heero's course is the only one-"

**Heero**. It always came back to him. "Forget about Heero, for one second, Quatre! What if there was another course? What if you had a choice?"

Quatre said nothing, and Usagi felt hope rising as he carefully averted his gaze, turning his chin down and away from her. He.. He **did** **not** want to follow Heero! He couldn't look at her from the tiny flame of conscience that still burned within him!

Usagi ducked down a few inches, repositioning under his downcast eyes, refusing to let him look away. "You **do** have a choice in this!_ Why_ must it be this way? _Why_ does our world have to end? What good does that do for **anyone**?"

Looking into her shining, beseeching blue eyes, there was an immeasurable sadness pervading Quatre's countenance. "Usagi..." Quatre's gaze suddenly grew distant. "...They're back." His free hand pressed to his chest, over his heart once more. "And Trowa.. he's..." With hardly an effort, he extracted his captured hand from hers.

Panic flared, and Usagi scampered after him as Quatre headed to the door. She was so sure she'd been on the brink of breaking through to one of them, of being able to show Quatre reason in this perpetual prison where Heero's diabolic plan was the only twisted clarity afforded to his four cohorts. "No, **no**, don't go, I'm sorry!" She stubbornly clung to his arm, trembling. "Stay! _Don't go_!"

"I must, Usagi. You've done nothing wrong. Please," Quatre pleaded quietly, his sight continuously flickering toward the closed door, and then back down to her. Usagi could hear nothing in the hallway outside, and she could only guess that her words were the cause of Quatre's anxiety. "Let go. I will use force, if you give me no other option."

Usagi bit her lip, and shook her head, refusing to willingly release him. "No. I don't believe you would hurt me."

Quatre's hand rested across his heart once again as his eyes closed. When they opened, he appeared so genuinely weary that Usagi couldn't help but slacken her grip.

"Thank you," he whispered. She didn't fight as he carefully pulled free his arm.

Hesitating at the door, Quatre turned back to her. "You aren't at all as I imagined you would be, Usagi..." There was such conflicting joy and aching sadness painted across his features, from this revelation. "For what has happened to you," his sight briefly flitted to her injured throat, and she self-consciously covered the marks with a delicate hand. "And for what will come to pass," he looked away now, "I am truly sorry."

Usagi slowly sank to the floor, arms curling around her knees.

"...We were _not_ supposed to keep you. That was _never_ part of the plan."

With those final words, Usagi was left alone.

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Hello, my darlings! I have returned from the black-hole! New chapters forthcoming, please forgive me for taking so long.

Hearts,

**- Zangai**


	8. The Doors Shall Have Ears

******Chapter 8 - The Doors Shall Have Ears**

* * *

After Quatre had left her with that disquieting apology and the afterimage of mournful sea-green eyes, Usagi hadn't moved from the spot in front of her room's door, not even to close said door when it had bounced back open an inch or so. In his haste, Quatre had simply pulled it behind himself upon his exit, and therefore it had not shut properly, the latch catching with a quiet _snick_ instead of the solidity of true _click_.

Usagi remained seated on the floor, though lithe legs now folded beneath so that she rested upon her heels, hands seeking reprieve in her lap as she bowed her head. She'd been so close, _so close_, to reaching Quatre, to appealing to that goodness and warmth and humanity within him and finding a light that wished burn and to **know **and to **love **within this world, and not wither within the world Heero sought to create through his Undoing. She was certain of it, as certain as she was that she had two eyes, a nose, lips, hands, feet! When she looked in Quatre's eyes, and saw an anguish that matched the same ache within herself, she knew her resolve to save not only herself and her world, but also these four men tricked and ensnared by Heero, was the right course.

Too often, lives were claimed of those who could have somehow been spared, who should have been saved - if only there had been more time..! Time to figure out a better way, a way that didn't end in her friends and her world winning at the expense of those caught in between. Though she spoke to no one of the guilt she carried, or the regret, she wordlessly promised herself again in these moments to make right for those lives that she hadn't been able to protect. Beautiful gems, lost souls, Jadeite Nephrite Zoisite Malachite Emerald Ruby Sapphire Diamond - oh, _Diamond_ - and the Tragedy of Galaxia. She couldn't redeem them all, but if she could save Quatre, Duo, Wufei, Trowa...

"**Trowa!**"

Usagi's thoughts were disturbed by that shouted name, echoing through the house. Her head snapped up as she automatically crawled across the short distance to the door, pressing one wide, anxious blue eye to the open slit so that she might stare into the hallway. She could see nothing from her vantage point, and instead pressed an ear to the opening. While she could have certainly rushed out, something inside whispered for her to stay back and simply observe what she may.

The hallways and spacious rooms of this house of weathered stone and older wood normally remained eerily silent, so much so that Usagi had always been surprised when one of the men appeared at her door, or passed her on her customary excursions to the bathing room at the farthest end of the corridor. Most days, this home, this prison, seemed occupied with only the specters of her own memories as companions, though she knew without a doubt that at least a fraction of the five men were present at any given moment, even if she did not hear or see them readily.

At this moment, however, there was no question of their presence. Snippets of terse, urgent conversation cut through the still air, and her brow furrowed in concern.

"...happened? Can he..." Quatre again, muffled scuffling and the sound of the front door slamming closed.

"...medical supplies, Wufei? ...think we're out of..." Duo now, normally cajoling tones tense and strained.

"Then go to the Garden!" a veritable snarl, Wufei, followed by the sound of cargo being deposited thoughtlessly onto the ground, a loud thumping and and clattering, accompanied by the sound of metal scraping against metal. "Quatre, assist me!" Usagi cringed, her breath hitching - veiled beneath those outbursts, there was an unmistakeable current of fear.

Heavy footsteps from someone sounded from below, more noise than she'd ever heard any of the men create in their movements, toward the opposite side of the house where Usagi had yet to venture. "...not ready for..." Duo, again, and the sound of another door slamming closed.

There was a brief pause of silence, followed by a low, pained moan.

"Trowa..!" Usagi instinctively pressed a hand to her heart, in the manner Quatre had gestured, when she heard him again cry out for the taller, enigmatic man.

"Quatre..." Wufei now, more scuffling and another moan. "...upstairs..."

Usagi listened to the sounds of an ascent up the stairs, but could not decipher the murmur of conversation conducted until they drew closer, as the men's voices had lowered considerably. Shifting again, Usagi pressed one eye to the opening, the uneven grain catching and pulling at wisps of her bangs, the door's edge digging into her smooth cheek.

Unblinking, her eye widened when the men turned the corner. Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei moved as one huddled unit. Each of Trowa's arms were draped over his comrade's shoulders, the taller man's head bowed, bobbing limply with each step that his companions carried him, his own feet dragging useless against the floorboards. He was clearly unconscious. It took more self control than she thought capable, to remain seated where she was and not rush out there, demanding to know what had happened to him.

"We knew of the risks, Wufei, when we volunteered. I know that..." Quatre's features were pinched, and he appeared so much older than the young man who'd stood before her such a short time ago. Worry deepened the hollows of his eyes, highlighted his gaunt cheeks, as he spoke in undertones to Wufei. "Is Heero aware of what's happened? Where is he?"

A quick, derisive snort. "Heero was informed prior to our premature departure. He stayed behind to finish today's mission - would you have expected him to return with us, and let the operation remain incomplete and for naught?" Wufei's customary drawl was replaced instead by cool, quick words that lashed out in disapproval of Quatre's questioning. The men were close enough for Usagi to see the narrowing of those almond shaped eyes, and the darkening crease between his brows as he frowned.

"Of course not." Quatre's equally sharp tone caught Usagi off guard, so accustomed was she to his gentle way of speaking. "And I implied nothing of the sort."

There was a brief silence between the two, save for the sound of Trowa's boots dragging against the smooth wood of the floor as they continued down the corridor. When he spoke again, Wufei sounded resigned. "...Let's get him to his quarters, so that he may rest." Quatre gave only a short nod of agreement.

The slow procession continued, and when they came to pass her own room, Usagi withdrew from her mute vigalence at the crack of her opened door, close enough to continue spying upon the trio but not quite as blatantly as her face pressed to the slit. She didn't fully comprehend what they were speaking of, these missions... she could only assume it had something to do with the reconnaissance Heero had referenced the last time she'd encountered him, and of course, ultimately his plans to lay the world to ruin...

The risks however... Was that a reference to the dangers of potential retaliation to this master plan? A reference of her beloved _senshi_? Had they battled..? Usagi's heart beat quick and hard in her chest, but as she studied Trowa's unresponsive, limp form she saw no marks of a skirmish, no signs of outward damage, and she was alternately relieved and fearful of that thought... To imagine, her dearests fighting against the four men under Heero's control deeply disturbed her. Was there no end to this cycle? Would it always be so, one side against another, the casualties of war merely numbers tallied upon the pages of Time? She would **not **allow it, not again.

Fingertips tugged lightly on her door, easing it open with only the slightest hiss of sound. Usagi peeked around the frame, watching as Wufei and Quatre carefully carried Trowa into one of the rooms adjacent to hers. Retreating into the confines of her own room, Usagi rose in a flurry of mussed _kimono _layers, scurrying back to the recently filled armoire to find a suitable change of clothing before venturing out.

Pink lips pressed into tight line and she nodded to herself with a soft, decided "Hn!" Heero - thankfully - was not here, so there was absolutely no reason to remain hidden in her room in hopes of avoiding confrontation... so concerned for Trowa's current state, she was certain that had he have been there, she would have gone all the same (albeit with more than a little trepidation).

She hoisted the train and hem of her _kimono_, easing backwards out of the bottom as a butterfly might shed it's cocoon, though with a considerable less amount of dexterity and grace. The young woman stumbled and she gave a final wrench and freed herself, falling backwards onto her bed with a breathy "Oof!" Bangs and fly-away hair from her buns stuck up at odd angles from static as she quickly folded the garment, refusing to fully inspect it's state of disrepair... Rei-_chan _would never let her live this down, how she'd been so negligent in taking care of the _kimono_! She'd be making this up to her forever!

Once, it had made her so terribly saddened to think of things like that, but now... As her tiny hands smoothed the silken folds, once she'd placed the _kimono _at the bottom of the armoire, the sadness was wrapped in the comforting arms of hope. Maybe, once this was all over, Quatre would even go with her to buy Rei-_chan _a new _kimono_, to make up for this ruined one, huh! Wouldn't that be something... wouldn't that be wonderful?

She stood still, feeling the sunlight sensitive-warm upon her bare skin, upon her long, goldspun hair, eyes closed and basking for a moment in the glow. That future, of the two starkly different existances merging into a singular one of happiness and friendship... Usagi smiled. Things.. things would be okay in the end... she could believe that now, and didn't need to hear it from anyone else to have faith in that future she so dearly wanted for everyone. She would find the way to make it so. But for now...

Usagi's concern again returned to Trowa, and she was swift to tug on one of the dresses - it was one of the more modest pieces from the collection, a burgendy top and a pleated, lavendar skirt accented by a silken, pale yellow train extending from the left hip... it fit her well, though was a tad loose around her bust, much to the young woman's chagrin, and the skirt dusted the tops of her knees while the fit suggested it wasn't meant to hang quite so low. The material was incredibly soft however, and smelled wonderfully of freshness, of spring and air and grass, which was unexpected, considering it had come from being stowed away in a chest. Usagi recalled the times her mother had packed away her winter clothes, and how they had always come back out with the cloying scent of cedar.

Combing her bangs with hurried fingers, Usagi padded barefoot to her door, and wishing to waste no more time so that she might find out at once what had happened to Trowa, she gave no pause as she opened her door and strode out into the hallway...

And promptly collided with a very solid person who was passing by at that exact moment.

"Owie..." Usagi whined, forehead throbbing as she pressed both cool palms to the sore spot- the impact caused an unintentional head-butt of the other person, and she squinted open an eye to find a rather unamused Wufei staring back at her, the patch of light-carmel skin below his left eye swelling visibly.

Lowering her hands from the growing lump on her forehead, Usagi opened and closed her mouth a few times, large eyes searching Wufei's face, searching for the right words as he stared down at her, scrutinizing, studying. She had not seen him since their encounter on the beach...

That aloof, dark gaze wandered from her reddened brow to instead study her form, her bare feet, the dress she now wore, lingering on her injured throat - she'd all but forgotten the circle of bruises she wore as a collar, and as she swallowed thickly she felt the flare of pain that was an acute reminder. And still he stared, unmoving, unspeaking, altogether unsettling...

"I- I wanted to say I'm sorry." Usagi blurted out in a rush, a feeling akin to embarrassment flushing her cheeks, that he should so shamelessly stare at the marks of Heero's handiwork, marks that were a reminder of her powerlessness.

Wufei's sight flickered up instantly to meet hers, though nothing of his countenance had changed.

As he didn't seem to understand her, the young blonde thought to elaborate. "Well, I mean obviously for bumping into you, ouchie huh? You might want to put some ice on that...heh." She gave a nervous, short laugh hands clasped behind her back as she fidgeted nervously from one foot to the other. Wufei had yet to show any reaction to her words, and her words came out quicker now, gaze downcast, "But really what I mean is that I'm sorry for all those things I said to you before, you know, the last time I saw you? It was pretty inconsiderate of me, and there you were only trying to help the situation, and you know I don't think you're the rudest or meanest guy around, and I'm sorry I accused you of.. of you know... with my friends... and...I'm sorry!"

Silence.

Lashes fluttered as her beseeching blue eyes lifted again, to gauge the young man's reaction.

Nothing had changed, though he did blink slowly a few times, before he gave a low sound of dismissal and brushed past. "Watch where you're going, girl."

Usagi watched him over the curve of her tiny shoulder as he departed, and she gave a barely perceptible smile. She was glad for the opportunity to properly apologize, even if the reception hadn't been ideal.

Once he had disappeared around the corner, Usagi turned forward again and hurried to the room where they'd carried Trowa.

Hesitantly, she pressed open the door, uncertain of what she'd find on the other side... she had not explored the house since her arrival, nor had she any desire to invade the rooms on this floor - she assumed they were the living quarters of her captors, and propriety dictated that you do not go snooping through other people's rooms... this would have been a proud moment for Luna, to know that all those years of lecturing had made some sort of impact upon her stubborn charge, despite the circumstances.

"Quatre..?" Usagi's sweet voice was soft and tender as she slowly slipped inside.

The room itself was as sparsely furnished as her own - a small cot, a dresser, two chairs, and armoire... There were no decorations or personal effects to speak of, no books, no knickknacks, nothing to indicate that anyone even lived here.. there weren't even curtains on the windows, also barred as her own.

The young man in question was seated in one of the chairs, hunched over so that his elbows rested on his knees, head bowed and hands clasped together, the protrusion of their bones beneath fair skin emphasizing his slightness of frame - Usagi briefly wondered if he'd been praying, he seemed so solemn and forlorn... and he did not yet reply to her.

She looked now down to the figure resting upon the cot, shirtless though covered by a thin sheet, and Usagi recoiled a step. Trowa seemed so pale and lifeless, seeming so much thinner and smaller somehow... And resting like this, features tranquil and undisturbed by the harrowing thoughts of Heero's missions, of their objective, of whatever weight all of the men carried... Usagi was shocked to realize just how young Trowa may have been, how young all of these men could be, potentially... where she had thought they were close to her own age, maybe a few years older, she now wondered if they were not younger than herself.

Staring down at Trowa, she thought of the immeasurable politeness and patience he's demonstrated during her initial days there, to her yelling and childishness and tantrums and sorrow and tears, when she still believed her friends dead...She thought of how Trowa would sit with her some days, when she was only just fiddling with an empty bowl, or sniffling into a cup of tea that had grown quite cold. He hadn't spoken, or even offered her any words of reassurance, but just that knowledge that there was someone else in the room with her, that she wasn't entirely alone in this terrible prison had been something, had been so much more on the days were she was certain her sorrow would swallow her whole.

Usagi felt her knees tremble, and rather than let her legs give way beneath her, she instead knelt next to the cot, opposite where Quatre sat. Without asking permission, she took hold of Trowa's still hand, cradling it between her own. His was of long, lithe fingers, contrastingly smooth and calloused in varying places, and it made her think of Haruka-_san_'s hand... but though Trowa's was warm, it was entirely unresponsive.

Tendrils of fear twisted in her stomach, the helpless sort one feels for a friend or loved one who is suffering in some way... For Trowa, and for Quatre, this feeling unfurled inside of Usagi, and she willed her voice not to waiver. "Quatre... Quatre, what's wrong with Trowa? Is he hurt..?"

The young man did not raise his head, but shook it slowly in response.

"Can't.. Can't we help him? Is he sick?" Usagi tried again, her voice a tremulous whisper - she found herself clutching Trowa's hand tighter, though it elicited nothing from the unconscious youth.

Quatre let out a long, shuddering sigh, before he looked to her - his eyes were red-rimmed, and her chest clutched as she realized he must have been crying at some point, though he cheeks were dry. "Yes, he's very ill, Usagi... Duo and Wufei are preparing medicine for him... I-" He regarded her tenderness, her pained expression, and what she wore, and he gave a laugh that ended in a strangled sound, as though forcing back a sob. "That dress..."

Paniced, Usagi released Trowa's hand and stood. "Ah! Should I change? Is it inappropriate? I'm sor-"

"No.. no, please, stay... I hadn't expected that should be the first you'd wear, but I dare say Tr- Trowa would be touched- will be touched," he amended firmly, "When he wakes up and sees you in it." Quatre covered his eyes, fingers threading through his flaxen, silken hair. "I apologize, I just..."

In an instant, she was at his side, and slender arms encircling him quite suddenly, as Usagi pulled Quatre close. She wished nothing more than to envelope him in comfort, in love, as a mother to a distraught child. His dampened cheek pressed against the soft planes of her stomach, even as she arched herself protectively around him, seeking to smooth back his hair, to stroke his shoulder, to rub the tautness in his back, in such a soothing fashion that Quatre could not even utter a single word of gratitude, and stunned though he was, his own stronger arms desperately sought her solace as he clung back.

"It's okay, Quatre." Usagi whispered fervently, closing her own eyes lest she cry for Quatre - her captor, her enemy - and his obvious pain. She did not understand anything anymore.. did not understand this illness that had befallen Trowa, what it meant or what had caused it... Somehow, she knew this had to be tied to Heero though, and felt her resolve strengthen again, that she would do whatever it took to save his four subordinates and end his diabolical reign.

"It'll be okay..."

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Thank you, to those of you who did not give up on this story, when even I thought I had... I promise this will be finished. I lost most of my notes and chapters that had been fleshed out, and I'm only now writing it again.

Love you,

**- Zangai**


	9. These Are the Days

**Chapter 9 - These Are the Days**

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Usagi squinted upward, a delicate hand rising as a visor to the whitish glow of the sun through the overcast sky. A cool breeze ruffled the multi-colored layers of her skirts and played through her overgrown bangs, and the long, trailing lengths of her hair, as she carefully moved down the front steps of the mansion.

Trowa had not awoken, nor had Heero returned, and she knew little more of either's state than she had five days ago.

A wince of pain rippled across her otherwise thoughtful expression, as loose pebbles and stones that littered the decrepit stairs dug into the soles of her bare feet - dirty, _bare _feet, actually. No one had brought her shoes, and additional inspections of her armoire revealed that there were none to be found, so shoe-less she had remained all this time.

The day was chillier than was usual for this time of year. The petite woman wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the cold, and her mind was drawn to thoughts of Quatre...

They'd clung to each other in those moments following her discovery of Trowa's condition, confused and anxious for the tall, slender man.. and also frightened. Quatre's tears cooled against the front of her dress, and his deceptively thin arms were so very strong, so very tightly embracing her back as she held him.

She'd slowly lowered herself in his arms, kneeling before him though they still clung to each other, her hands still seeking to soothe him, to ease his pain as she would any of her dear friends. Usagi did not know why Quatre was so distraught - Trowa was clearly ill, but he would get better, that was the pattern of natural order.

Crouched before the grief stricken blond, his gentle hands curved around her shoulders, hers against his upper arms as she stared up and he down at her, she felt his unspoken gratitude, even if the moment did not last.

Wufei had entered then, Duo on his heels and carrying a bowl filled with a pale, opaque liquid. Time seemed to slow to a halt, the silence of that room almost tangible, as no words were spoken. Wufei had simply looked to her, and then back to Quatre, wearing the same look of disdain she'd seen when she'd woken in the boat and had irritated him by her mere being. Likewise, Duo's genial face had pulled down in a scowl, his luminous, violet eyes disapproving as he glared between her and Quatre.

In an instant she'd been pulled to her feet by Quatre, and ushered out of the room. His grip had been steel, though not rough, his pace fast and gaze distant. The change in his demeanor had been so abrupt, so unexpected, that Usagi hadn't been able to utter a single questioning word as he returned her to the room and left just as callously.

It was only now, in retrospect, that she wondered if she'd erred in her clumsy, forward ways.. it was quite often she'd found herself, since her capture, apologizing for her behavior. It did not sit well with her, and made her stomach flip uncomfortably - it wasn't fair she should find herself feeling burdensome, when she hadn't asked to be here!

In the five days since, Quatre had not spoken to her, not when he brought her food, nor any of the instances when she'd crept back to Trowa's room and found him in lone vigil at the unconscious man's bedside.

In fact, none of the men had spoken to her since, and with Heero still away on the 'mission' Wufei had mentioned, Usagi had spent much more time outside of her room. While she hated to admit it, his absence had put her far more at ease.

It was in that time that she'd discovered the other rooms on the second level of the mansion did in fact belong to the four men. Curious, and lonesome, she'd tentatively peered into the room closest to Trowa's one afternoon, and had seen Quatre in a chair beside his barred window.

His quarters were a stark contrast to the other man's, the walls lined with paintings, tiny mechanical devices tinkering on his dresser, the matching desk stacked with books and what appeared to be sheet music, though everything appeared slightly faded or dusty, as though nothing had been touched since it was first arranged.

Duo's room was a mystery yet. It either lacked a window, or he had long ago covered it up, and the interior had been cloaked in shadow when she'd gotten a peek within one morning. And the room she assumed was Wufei's, the furthest from hers and at the end of the hall nearest the washroom, remained with door closed at all times.

And Heero's quarters...

Usagi shivered again, and not entirely from the cold, as she tentatively stepped over fallen branches and stumbled with her typical gracelessness over the jut of risen tree roots, as she continued following the path to the beach that she'd taken once before, when she'd been dead-set on escape by any means.

She hadn't attempted to open those heavy, twin doors that led to Heero's private chambers. Thinking of that room, of the sweltering heat of the fire, of the scent of the aged pages of all of those books, of the scarlet decor and creeping shadows, of Heero's mere _presence_... It made her mouth dry, her heart beat an erratic tempo.

Bravery seemed keen on eluding her in these solitary moments, but she could - and did - draw strength from memories of her beloved _senshi_, and the knowledge that she could save Trowa, Quatre, Duo, and Wufei if she just figured out how to stop Heero. Questions that remained unanswered swirled as always through her thoughts as she walked: where was she, why hadn't anyone found her, how did these five know of her _ginzuishou_, why had Heero been wounded when he'd attempted to take her crystal, who was the other woman Heero so deeply hated, why did Heero still wish to keep her if she was useless at this point, why was Trowa so sick, why was Heero so set on destroying the world, how was she supposed to stop Heero when she was powerless, why were the four men following Heero, and where the **heck **did all these dresses come from?

Whining pitifully to herself, Usagi cupped a hand defensively over each of her _odango_, and dropped down into a crouch. These questions and so many others assaulted her daily, and there never seemed to be any answers, just more and more questions raised. She sat back on her heels, forcing herself to take long, deep breaths, and to force all of the questions into one jumbled pile of confusion which she mentally kicked into a corner. Each day, she had to remind herself to bide her time and demonstrate **far **more patience than had ever been demanded of her before.. even as she was aware that each day that passed was more time she'd been missing from home, and another step Heero took toward completing his goal.

An unexpected flash of bright light immediately diverted her attention from the inevitable thoughts that plagued her. Quizzically, Usagi cocked her head, pushing herself back up to a standing position as she took a few steps toward the direction the light had originated. In a few seconds, she was awarded another glimpse of the same bright flash, and cautiously the young woman continued in that direction.

Reaching the edge of the wooded area, Usagi peered carefully around a wide, mossy tree trunk, toward the beach, to find the source of the light.

And there, on the beach, she found Wufei. As still as stone, he posed with one leg extended outward, the other bent at a ninety degree angle on the sand. An arm was also extended, the other drawn close to his chest, and in his hands he held a twin bladed trident.

Usagi held her breath, waiting for some sign, waiting for him to move, yet he did not stir from that pose for more than the span of a few heartbeats. And when her eyes drifted from the flat, polished heads of the tridents, the air she'd been holding slid out from between the curves of her lips as a quiet rush.

Wufei startled Usagi as he suddenly broke into motion, a quick slash and upward thrust of the weapon, staccato movements, punctuated by brief pauses between each advancement of pose, the tensing of his arms, the outward turn of a leg... He lifted the trident above his head, and brought it down swiftly, with incredible strength and complete control.

And the entire time, his expression was utterly clear, unmarred by arrogance or disdain. To see him without a sneer, without that look of judgment as he stared down at her, was almost shocking... he appeared entirely at peace.

He charged forward, gripping the trident's pole and swinging it in great arcs on either side of his lean form, punctuating the end with a high, graceful leap, and another forceful thrust of the weapon. The sand hardly stirred as he landed and transitioned into a series of complicated, short kicks matched by even shorter slashes of the trident. He leapt - once, _twice _- and fell back into the same starting stance as Usagi had first seen him.

"Amazing..." she whispered in childlike wonder, wide eyed and mesmerized by Wufei's martial acrobatics.

He swung the trident in long, elegant curves, a strange but somehow fitting dichotomy created as he moved with sharp, forward kicks, and unexpectedly he leapt again. Right leg, then left, led in backwards kicks, and he spun with such grace that Usagi could only wonder if he somehow was able to alter time to slow his descent to a feather-fall, as he landed gently. When his feet touched down, he spun once more, a sweeping toe and the tip of one of the trident's heads scoring the sand, spiraling it around him in the softest up-rise of sand, as he lowered into a crouch, one leg and the trident extended from his form.

"**Wow!**" Unable to contain herself further, Usagi burst from her hiding spot, clapping excitedly as she hurried to bridge the distance between them. She ran with off-balanced steps, her weight pushing the sand down beneath each footfall - compared to Wufei, her gait was like that of a toddling child.

Wufei's coal eyes widened in surprise, and immediately narrowed, as a customary scowl surfaced in greeting.

"So~o cool!" the young blonde exclaimed, still applauding as she reached him. "I've only seen people do that in movies! That was incredible! You were like '**FWAH!**' and '**KYAH!**'," Usagi held an imaginary trident, mock thrusting and kicking in a mimicry of the man's routine, "And I could hardly believe how high you jumped," and here, she gave a hop that was meant to be a Wufei-inspired leap. However, with her unfavorable agility and even greater lacking of dexterity, Usagi barely left the ground and landed poorly.

With a yelp and flailing of arms, Usagi plopped squarely on her rear. Undeterred however, she looked up at Wufei (who had slowly risen out of his crouch while wearing the same, uninviting expression) and clasped her hands together. "Amazing..!"

The trident flashed in the waning sunlight, as Wufei slowly swung the weapon, grasped in his right hand.

"Just like a real kung-fu master! Mako-_chan _would go nuts if she saw you! Bravo!" And she then clapped again.

He gave a slight growl before lunging toward her, and later, when Usagi thought back to this very moment, she would recall how white his teeth seemed in contrast to his light-carmel skin, how very dark his almond shaped eyes were, and how behind that snarl, more than anything, she sensed something akin to sadness.

Now however, the poor girl merely gave a shriek as she pulled in her knees and brought her arms up defensively in front of her. And though he ended up crouched eye-level with her, no part of him or the trident ever touched her. Pale and shaking, Usagi looked to Wufei, who breathed heavy through his nostrils as he stared back at her, and then to the trident, impaled halfway up the length of the pole in the sand beside her.

"You forget yourself," Wufei drawled lowly, close enough that the breath of his words tickled against her cheeks, and despite herself Usagi felt a flush follow in their wake. "And you forget who **I **am - who **we **are - and why you were brought here."

"I forgot how scary you can be," Usagi amended for him very quickly, shrinking back an inch or so, uncomfortable by his nearness. How could she forget, as he'd stated? All she thought about were the circumstances.

Staring at Wufei, she now thought back to when she'd first met him, of that fear that he'd invoked by holding her and her friends at gunpoint... And while that memory was still quite vivid upon evocation, the one glaring fact that made it impossible for her to truly be afraid, was that despite everything that had come to pass, not **once **had he hurt her. And he had not harmed her friends.

"**I **am your enemy. **We** are your enemy," Wufei stated with a cold finality, as he started to stand.

The tightness of her shoulders drained as her fear abated and she leaned forward. She laid a hand over his that still gripped the trident, and that tiny gesture froze him mid-motion. Usagi stared up at him through her overgrown bangs, cerulean blue eyes clear and kind. "Let's be friends instead, okay?" And then she smiled, wholeheartedly.

She counted Wufei's blinks - three, to be precise - that marked the awkward silence that followed her request. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. Loudly. It wasn't exactly a happy sound, but she supposed it was a better response than he could have given.

"Oh, stupid girl," he said with a shake of his head. His tone carried no weight of an insult, if anything he only sounded resigned. "Go back to your room."

Wufei turned on a heel, and walked toward the sea, pausing before he stepped from the dry sand to the wave dampened area. He slid off his thin, black shoes, tugged off his wristbands, and pulled the tie from his hair. Usagi watched from her seat on the sandbank, flushing an indecent shade of crimson as the young man continued to disrobe, pulling his navy tank-top off in one easy, fluid motion.

The lean muscles of his back and shoulders flexed as he raised his arms to comb his fingers through the length of his black hair, and when his hands dropped to his waistband, his intentions clear, Usagi scrambled to her feet and took off running in the opposite direction. "Uh, I'll see you later!" she hollered, feeling frazzled and slightly embarrassed.

She didn't stop running until she made it back to the front entrance to the mansion. Out of breath, she bowed over, hands on her knees as she gulped in great lungfuls of cool air. She certainly didn't want to go sit lonely in her room, and though Wufei had spoken to her - the first time in five days that **anyone **had - she didn't take it as a sign that the Duo or Quatre would drop the silent treatment and follow suit.

While the beach was certainly off limits for the time being (Usagi felt her cheeks heat again in memory of what she had seen, and what she had **almost **seen) she'd yet to explore around the perimeter of the mansion. She thought of the garden she'd heard mentioned, and decided to look for it herself.

It was just as she'd reached the outcropping of trees on the western side of the mansion that the first raindrops pattered against her nose and head. After she'd gone a few yards into this wooded area, it was raining hard enough that regardless of the protection the close-knit, overhanging branches offered, Usagi still found herself getting thoroughly drenched. Unfortunately, the thin material of her dress, while flexible and comfortable, did little to protect her from the weather. She sneezed harshly, feeling her hair drooping with the added weight of the water, and considered heading back and indoors. It was then that she heard a voice speaking above the sound of the falling rain, and for the second time today, Usagi found herself spying upon one of her captors.

Ahead of her was a clearing in the trees, and seated amidst a number of odd, varying shaped rocks and small trees in varying states of growth, was Duo. Unmindful of the rain, he too was soaked, his customary black attire clinging to his wiry physique, accenting the sharp lines of his shoulders, the narrowness of his waist. His braid hung heavy with rain water, the fringe of his brown hair plastered across his brow, which he absently swiped at it as he spoke animatedly to... himself?

Usagi swiped at her own bangs, and looked again, but there honestly was not another soul present! While she was well aware that Luna would scold her severely under normal circumstances, she was pretty sure that her guardian would be alright with eavesdropping in this case. She remained hidden, but tiptoed closer to the clearing, to better listen.

"...and he **still **hasn't woken up. Man, you know I hate being the downer, but I'm really worried about him." Duo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked so weary in that instant, and her heart ached for him.

"Trowa..." she murmured, glancing in the direction of the mansion, and where she knew the unconscious youth rested.

"I just keep thinking about how you got, before..." a vague wave of his hand, and the braided man sighed deeply again. "And before we even go there, I know we picked this, we knew the consequences, yadda yadda." Duo scowled in a way that was entirely Wufei, opening and closing his hand as to indicate someone talking. "Doesn't make it any easier, ya know?" He chuckled humorlessly. "Sometimes I wish it was **me **in that bed, buddy. That's all I'm saying."

Fondly, Duo wiped at the front of the rock with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. "Tell you what though, the real problem I got is with short, blonde, and kidnapped. She just looks at you with these big ol' eyes and it just hits ya, man! Like a punch in the gut - don't know why Leader-_sama _won't just toss her back. She deserves to have some time with her family, before the shit hits the fan, if ya know what I mean."

The drenched youth shook his head, again pushing at the brown locks that hung in his eyes. "It ain't good for anyone, her being here. For better or worse, it's a total, unnecessary distraction. Wish Heero would just off her or let us stick her on a ship back to mainland. She pops up out of nowhere, following us around the house, like a lost kitten who just wants to be friends. _Friends_!" He laughed darkly. "You getting the picture, buddy? '_Hey, we're here to blow up the world and kill everybody_!' _'Oh, well let's make the most of it and be friends_!'"

Duo's bitter, off-key laughter cut like a knife, and Usagi just wanted it to end. It struck such a nerve to hear the sorrowful, self-mocking sound, and it made her feel physically ill... She flinched, as though struck, as he laughed on and on, bowing over the stone before him.

Bare feet slipping on the muddy, waterlogged grass, Usagi darted from where she hid, hands clamped over her ears to block out unhappy sound. "**Stop! **Please, Duo, _please_, just stop, please.. _please_..." She felt as though she might cry in that moment.

With a feline's reflexes, Duo sprung to his feet and assumed a defensive stance, surprise giving way to a steely, impassive expression.

The two stood facing one another in the clearing, the rain pouring down on the misshapen slabs of stone, on both of their stationary forms, both shivering and pale from cold, neither speaking.

Usagi thought Duo might say something to her then, as his mouth opened, his gaze falling to his boots... but instead, he simply turned, and ran.

She started to follow, and then stopped. There was no way she'd catch up to him, and even if she did, what would she say? Wrapping her arms around her tiny frame, Usagi crouched down where Duo had been seated, before one of the rocks. Carved roughly, as though a child had spent hours chipping away at the stone with a blunt chisel, was only one name. **SOLO**

Usagi felt an icy weight pressing in her chest, as she slowly inched in front of another stone, and then another, and another, realization making her heart beat hard and loud in her ears. All of the rocks were engraved with names, some more carefully crafted than others, some bearing dates as recent as the past year...

This.. was a graveyard.

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Hello everyone!

I'll be keeping this updated at least once a month, I'll try to get out another chapter sooner though. Thanks for all the lover-ly reviews! :o)

_Chuu!_

- **Zangai**


	10. So Small In Times Such As These

**Chapter 10: So Small In Times Such As These **

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The rain had stopped some time ago, and left in its aftermath warmed, thickened air, as the temperature rose with the new moon. The sky was dark and clear, and pale starlight cast its glow over the mansion, over the trees and turf, over the crashing waves, the seawater near black in the moonlight's absence.

Within the clearing of trees, surrounded by the makeshift gravestones, Usagi still sat on the damp ground with knees gently touching and calves splayed, tiny fingers worrying at the rain slickened blades of grass underhand. She was no longer inspecting the graves, had not been for some time. She knew the names of all those burried there, had committed them to memory as the byproduct of an afternoon and evening spent in this place - Solo, Catherine Bloom, Iria J. Winner, Long Mei Lan, Treize Khushrenada, The Lady Une...

Reaching out, the tip of a finger slowly traced the uneven swirl of the 'S', the complete curve of the 'O', continuing onward until she'd finished the entire name. The name meant nothing to her, but it quite obviously did to Duo. This was someone who was important to him... And Usagi couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was missing a very big **something**, as she remained in the company of the dead.

_**I** am your enemy. **We** are your enemy..._

Who were they, these six? Were they all friends of the four men? Would they have also considered themselves her enemies, if they were still alive? Or were they Heero's victims? Had they too, been taken against their will, to serve his purpose in some way?

_Don't know why Leader-sama won't just toss her back..._

Why did Heero deign to keep her, after all? Surely, he didn't find her amusing - well, maybe he **did**. He was a psychopath... Even bad-guys need recreational activities... He didn't consider her a threat at all (she'd prove him wrong!)...

_You shouldn't provoke him..._

Heero had told her he hated her, though. In some way, through his cruel treatment, perhaps he felt vindicated against whatever female he hated more than her... That was pretty sick, and sad, when she thought about it.

Usagi swallowed hard, fingers tangling in the damp grass as she clenched her hands, and she absently noticed that her once injured throat hardly hurt anymore.

_We were not supposed to keep you, that was never part of the plan..._

What was the original plan, if it had been a last moment alteration to keep her within Heero's grasp? Had there ever been a plan to return her to her world, to her friends, powerless without her ginzuishou? Or had the plan been to **kill **her, to bury her here as well?

"The company of the dead suits you." That dreadful, smooth voice was rich with ambivalence, entirely unperturbed yet somehow satisfied, in the utterance of that one statement that sliced through the still night like a razor.

Startled, Usagi felt herself flinch and bit down on her lip to muffle a whimper in surprise - she did not shout out in fear, at someone sneaking up on her in the dark. This was a testament to her bravery in the face of the true enemy, and she was certain that Haruka-_san_ and Michiru-_san_ would have been proud of her small step toward maturity...

Usagi did not turn her eyes from the gravestone before her, visible in the ghostly, silver starlight that bathed the surrounding area. She did not wish to look upon the one man among her group of captors that frightened her.

It had been a good many days since... since that night when she'd last encountered Heero, alone and in the dark of her room. He'd been on the unexplained 'mission' all this time... While she knew it was inevitable, some small part of her had refused to acknowledge that he would return at some point. She wondered if he'd only now returned, and had immediately sought her, or if he'd returned during her time away from the mansion.

"Should I kill you, Princess?" Heero's voice continued as a silken monotone, carrying through the thick, stale air that separated them - Usagi might as well have been trapped in a coffin with him, not in the open clearing of a graveyard. She could discern little from that controlled voice, but was certain she heard a fine thread of longing lacing through each word - longing, no doubt, to carry out that task. "Are you lonely enough to join them?"

"No," Usagi replied evenly - there was no quiver in that one word, as the moon princess willed herself toward a calmness she didn't feel. She was afraid. "Are you going finish what you didn't the other night?" The flat resignation of her normally bubbly voice was unrecognizable, even to her own ears. That couldn't have been her that had spoken... Of all the things to say, to **not **say...

Usagi willed herself not to move from her seated position on the ground, even as her small hand twitched, wanting to touch her throat in a protective gesture.

"Human bones are essentially fragile structures. Your neck, your arms, your thighs - they are glass stems in these hands... And death hurts like hell." There was no hint of bragging, no sinister pleasure derived from those statements of fact, when he spoke. Despite herself, Usagi felt a shudder course up her spine.

Heero paused briefly, and then spoke again in the same, unchanging tone. "My training ensures that I could make it painless, however. Either way, it would be effortless."

Usagi closed her eyes, swallowing down her fear - she thought of what Trowa had said, of provoking Heero... She was careful with her response, careful that there was no challenge in her placid request. "I don't.. I don't want to die. Unless you're going to act on that impulse right now, please stop."

Usagi sucked in her breath, waiting for his verdict to be rendered. Seconds ticked by, marked by the fluttering of her rapid heartbeat, and there was nothing. The young woman exhaled a soft sigh, cerulean eyes shining metallic in the pale light, as she stared up at the star strewn sky.

"No, not now." Heero's voice was so soft, she wasn't sure he'd even spoken, or if it were simply her imagination. "Not now..."

And having learned her lesson from their prior encounters, she had no intention of entertaining conversation with Heero, and did not comment further. Her fists trembled, clenched yet around handfuls of grass, as Usagi remained still, nonthreatening, hoping Heero would simply tire of her silence and leave her be.

It seemed Heero was talkative this evening, far, far more than the other two occasions he'd confronted her, and needed no prompting on her part to speak.

"There is a story, Princess, about a world where many different races lived together and cities ran on the inherent energy in stones." His voice, droning and almost totally unchanging, reminded Usagi in many ways of the talking computers Ami-_chan_ had marveled over during an outing to one of the larger shopping malls in a neighboring district.

Usagi intended to ignore him, to allow Heero his ramblings - that he continued to speak to her at all was surely a sign that he had grown tired of spouting the same rhetoric to his comrades, and needed someone new to listen to the vocalization of his insanity. She could not be swayed by anything he said, and she trusted **none **of the words he would utter. She pitied him for his evil ways... but she was certain there was nothing to be gained from this exchange.

The destruction he was intent on issuing to her world made him no better than _**Chaos**_.

"Hunger, sickness, suffering, loneliness, warfare - these were foreign concepts in that world." Heero paused and there was suddenly an eerie silence between them.

Usagi assumed it was for dramatic effect, and that the leader of her captors expected her to comment, or respond. Her eyes remained fixated upon the night sky, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

Heero continued without encouragement or contribution on her part, his disembodied voice carrying easily from his position among the trees that bordered the graveyard. "There was only sunlight, only moonlight. Day to night. Night to day. Reoccurring over and over. A mosaic with the same tiles laid out in repetition."

Having been paying Heero less than her full attention, it took Usagi the span of a few moments to realize that his slow, steadily spoken words had stopped again, but this time the silence lingered. She felt the back of her neck prickling, her chest gripped by iced tendrils of warning as her sight flickered to the edge of the clearing where her enemy must have been, and saw no one.

Her error was realized as she twisted further to search for him, and she gasped loudly when she found him directly behind her. Usagi saw only Heero's cold, unforgiving eyes as he grabbed her - there was never any forewarning to his violence. She must have weighed no more than a child to him, as he flung her from her seat before Solo's gravestone, beneath the starlight.

She crashed against the wide, curved trunk of a tree, her breath slammed from her petite frame. Her head connected with the uneven bark and immobile structure beneath, causing brilliant flashes of painful, white light to obstruct her vision. Usagi surely would have crumpled back to the ground, had Heero not been upon her once more, his strong, calloused hands manacles around her wrists, forcing her to stand as he pinned her arms above her head.

"You cannot afford disinterest, Princess."

Her knees buckled as she fought to stand on her own, her equilibrium disrupted by the throbbing pain that pounded her skull. It was impossible for him to think that she would more clearly hear his monotonous continuance now.

And still, Heero spoke on, his steely, unwavering, unblinking stare holding her to consciousness - the blue depths of his eyes would **_drown _**her. "Lethargy. Idle contentment. Stupidity. These were the original sins, before Pandora's box was delivered and the corrupt hearts of Men became known to all."

With each word of the fable Heero recounted, Usagi felt his hands tightening around her wrists, surely grinding her bones to little more than dust. She gasped again, finding it hard to breath in the saturated air, with Heero so close... She was assaulted with the smell of moist earth and fallen rain, mixed with a cloying, undeniably male scent that somehow reminded her of night blooming jasmine and something else... but was altogether smothered by an overbearing, pungent odor akin to tar and smoke.. and _blood_.

"She awoke the wicked. They killed those who held power and those who were not of their own. There was mercy only for those who were useful. And in the end, even they were not spared." Nothing changed in his steady speech pattern to betray his opinion, nothing changed in his unaffected countenance, as Heero stared down at her through wayward, unruly hair that was as dark as the night sky, with a single minded, fervent focus. It were as though nothing else but she existed to him.

Usagi did not cry out when his grip around her wrists tightened further, lest she interrupt him, though she was unable to withhold a whimper. She'd long since lost feeling in her hands, and sharp jets of pain radiated down the lengths of her forearms, keeping time with the aching throb in her skull, making her nearly swoon.

"Once the streams and rivers and seas and oceans were red with blood, and there was no one left to fight, Men turned on each other. Gorged and drunk on warfare, their feast had become the flesh of adversaries. Nothing else would satiate that hunger and greed." Heero's eyes closed, a short exhale through his nose a snort of derision.

The twin vices of his hands snapped open, releasing her. "Like leeches. Like ticks. Like rats."

The moon princess dropped instantly to her knees, shoulders hunching forward as she folded her arms, tucking her damanged wrists in against her sides. Her small form shook from fear, from pain, and her forehead brushed against the firm, unyielding muscle of Heero's thigh.

She felt him twitch at the touch of her brow, before he noiselessly, gracefully, lowered himself into a crouch, settling himself on one knee before her, his form and features partially obscured in shadow. "Spreading pestilence."

They were eye-level, when Usagi straightened as best she could to face him, trembling and biting back tears.

"They taint everything they touch."

She couldn't sit there silently, letting him use a paltry fable as grounds to speak about this world, _her _world, so callously, with such a lack of humanity. "This world, with all of my friends, all of the people I love, and all the people I don't know - it's full of **beauty **and **goodness**." She knew a future, far, far better then Heero's plans, awaited everyone... "Killing everyone, destroying this world - that's your solution then?"

"This world is a lie. Life, happiness, love - these are just illusions Men have created." His reply was instant, cryptic and emotionless. "Besides, nothing has ever been gained without something else being lost. "

"No, you're wrong," she refuted, searching for some sign of consideration, some sign of hesitance in his unfailing conviction. It was difficult to think - she was tired and in pain, unable to escape this awful nightmare, trapped and powerless before her enemy. She had to somehow make him see how wrong he was, knowing full well that her arguments would be falling upon deaf ears. "And even if you were right, killing everyone, destroying _everything_..." her voice hitched, when she spoke those words aloud, "It won't undo evil deeds already committed, there's nothing to gain from destruction. It's just a sacrifice of more lives... How many have already suffered and died needlessly in this world? **How many**?"

"In the end, everything dies. But there is meaning in this forthcoming cycle of death-"

Usagi shook her head; this was Death for the sake of Death, regardless as to how he considered it. "You'll just be adding to that number. You're no better than-"

"-and my only purpose in this world is to kill," Heero coolly finished his statement, his low, even voice cutting through her declaration effortlessly.

"And you," this man, the self appointed judge and jury, without even the slightest trace of Dark Energy to account for his cruelty, "You will rule anyone left alive in the aftermath."

"No, Princess." His initial response confused her, but only until he explained. "No one of this world will remain."

"It does **not **have to be like this!" Usagi physically cringed, shaking her head, as Heero stared fixedly at her, and the sharp line of his brows seemed to soften.

"Johannesburg, Pretoria, Port Elizabeth, Saldanha, Cape Town, Santa Fe, Parana, Buenos Aires..." Usagi recognized some of these places... The foreign names were unfamiliar to her tongue, but slipped from Heero's lips as gently and easy as a sigh. "These places no longer exist."

Usagi blanked, her pain forgotten, her heart all but stopping. ".._Wh-what_..?"

"All that remains is rubble, dust.. and the dead."

The night, the starlight, the trees, the gravestones.. everything seemed to suddenly spin in upon itself, and Usagi felt as though she were going to be sick... She recoiled against the solid tree behind her. "No..." It was a whimpered plea that she uttered.

This.. this was _surreal_. She felt wholly detached from the moment, and wholly consumed by it, all at once. Those places he spoke of, that she's never seen, let alone really thought about, didn't even know where they **were**.. Now, gone? _All of those people_...

And how..? How had Heero accomplished it? Those places were nowhere near Japan! Were there other bases of operation, were there other empty mansions, with his followers, laying in ambush throughout this world?

Or had he accomplished this destruction with.. with her _ginzuishou_?

Heero's calculating, fiercely handsome and cruel features shifted marginally - it seemed as though he were on the brink of a smile.

Fighting for control of herself, of her emotions, of her tears, Usagi was found lacking. "I.. I don't.. I don't _understand_. **Any **of this, **anything** that's happening! Why I'm still here, why you hate me - **us**..!" she was sobbing now, for herself, for those poor people, those families and friends and lovers who were now gone... and for her world. "_**Why **_does it have to be like this?"

His answer was absolute, and without even a hint of regret. "There is no other way."

"_So this_," the words were wrenched forth, as a harsh sob, "**_This _**is what you want? A world.. A world..." Her despair, her sorrow... _Pharaoh 90_... _**Chaos**_... "Blanketed in silence! Everyone gone!"

Heero shook his head slowly, "No."

She stared at him, still crying, holding her small body with her injured arms, waiting for him to explain - **needing **him to say something that would make sense.

"Duo, Quatre, Trowa, Wufei..." Heero's eyes were fathomless and lucid, had been the entire time, and now they clearly shown with what could only be described as smug gratification, as he answered without hesitation. "Theirs will live, while all Others die."

And now... **now **she knew, now she believed she understood, at least in part.

This.. this was why they followed, Heero, why they were willing to become murderers, why **nothing **mattered outside of what Heero deemed necessary to accomplish his goal... He was giving them and theirs - their families, their friends, their lives - what would remain of the world, after he was through with it...

In exchange for their souls, and their innocence, Duo, Quatre, Trowa, Wufei... They all ensured the protection of the ones they loved.

It was now that she thought she understood why Heero hated her- because of what she represented: this era, these people, the future... none of which were of his design. A future that she would herald... one that he likened to the world before the plagues Pandora released...

Usagi could only bow her head and weep softly, her heart in agony. The night was silent, disturbed only by the quiet sounds of her sorrow.

Before her, she knew Heero remained kneeling, attention entirely absorbed by her reaction, studying her with the same fascination a child tearing the wings off a butterfly might possess.

Ignoring him, she flinched when the first tentative touch of his fingertips dusted against her forehead, stirring the strands of her overgrown bangs... And she grew utterly still when he smoothed back her hair, his harsh, hurtful hand inexplicably gentle, but firm, as his palm pressed flat against the side of her brow, and the warm pad of his thumb stroked at the patch of skin above the bridge of her nose, between her fine eyebrows, as though searching for something.

Absolutely repulsed, Usagi jerked away from that unwanted touch, but Heero's grip tightened, holding her in place.

"It would be much more efficient if I knew how to harness the _ginzuishou_," he mused aloud, low tones tinged with frustration.

Usagi glared at him through the remnants of her tears, her voice thick from crying. "_I'll **never **tell you how_-"

Heero's unexpected peals of laughter made her blood run cold. When he'd quieted, and his countenance had settled back into an unreadable, stony expression, he punctuated the echoing sounds with a low grunt. "Hn. You don't know how to use it either."

With an effortless flick of his wrist, he sent Usagi sprawling across the grass, and when she finally struggled into an upright, seated position, Heero was already gone.

**x**

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Well... Hm!

Anyway! I do reply to reviews if you log in, so feel free to leave a comment! :o)

_Chuu,_

**- Zangai**


	11. In This Terrible Town

**Chapter 11:**** In This Terrible Town**

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She didn't recall her retreat - it was a long time after Heero had left her that she numbly rose, and stumbled her way through the darkness under the canopy of trees, and had a vague recollection of tripping up the decrepit stairs upon reaching the mansion. Stinging knees were an acute reminder as she had slowly trekked through the parlor and adjoining room and began an ascent up the stairs that led to the personal quarters of her and her captors, all the while nursing her sprained wrists.

And when Usagi had entered her own room, she'd only had a single minded desire for rest, to escape the aches of her body and the throbbing in her head. But silent, empty, and dark as it was, she longed to feel Luna's small round form pressed against her side as she slept, or to glance up and find her guardian keeping a solemn vigil at her window.

Hardly giving thought to her actions, she wearily lifted one of the plush pillows from her bed, cradling it between her forearms, and backtracked out to the hallway. Her bare feet padded gently against the cool floorboards, and the door gave only a short creak of protest as she slipped into Trowa's room.

As she stepped closer and peered down at him, the young man lay unresponsive as expected, the waning starlight casting an ethereal sheen against the right half of his tranquil features, highlighting the sharp line of his nose, a high cheekbone, his strong jaw-line. She wondered in those moments, as she had in other moments to herself, what her friends would think of Trowa, once everything was over and she invited the four men to her home, to introduce to everyone.

A giggle escaped Usagi, soft but genuine, as she imagined what sort of antics would inevitably ensue - dramatic, comedic, lighthearted, playful, _romantic_...

Her heart clenched, though it wasn't quite as forceful as it had been in the beginning of her capture. This ache was for a time that felt left behind, and for a love she knew she would see again, though when that was she couldn't say. "Mamo-_chan_..." she murmured, gingerly rubbing at her puffy eyes.

She thought of Heero now, of the pain he'd caused, of the things he said, of what had come to pass, of his piercing eyes and the touch of his thumb against her brow, and she was dizzy. She needed to rest.

Usagi placed her pillow atop of the wide, bare dresser-top, and clambered up after it. Rough and uncomfortable though it may be, it was preferable to her own bed. She didn't want to sleep alone, and didn't think Trowa would mind even if he were awake to ask.

An awry foot and accompanying toes accidentally tugged open a drawer as she situated herself, a heavy clatter echoing from within drawing her attention. Usagi looked down, and reflexively cringed as she recognized the black shape of a handgun... though beside it, was something else.

Usagi reached down and plucked the faded photo from the drawer, tilting it back and forth in an effort to see the portrait. Though the edges were yellow and fraying, at the center the picture was still quite clear - it was of a woman.

Auburn, shoulder length hair, thick with curls, a pair of wise, friendly eyes staring off to the side, as though she'd been distracted when the photo was taken, and a smile that was both confident yet gentle on her thin lips... And, though the burgundy top was well fit around her chest, and her lean figure filled out the cut of the pleated, lavender skirt, it was obvious she was wearing the _same_ dress Usagi had donned from the chest Duo had brought her.

The photo slipped from her fingers in that moment of surprise, fluttering down to rejoin the handgun in the drawer, and Usagi didn't retrieve it again. It was for the best - she should not have been snooping in the first place! A small, internal voice that sounded remarkably like Luna's scolded her shortly, and Usagi obediently closed the drawer, laid down atop of the dresser, and fell asleep, thinking no more of the mysterious woman in the photograph.

A sharp lance of pain radiating from her left wrist awoke her sometime later, and in a half-lucid state, she weakly flailed around, finding herself restrained under a thin layer of blankets. "Wh-wha..?" she murmured, blinking blurry eyes and trying to sit up.

"You'll have to forgive my heavy hand, Serenity. I'm afraid my coordination is lacking." Those quiet, even words were as a siren-song, and Usagi's heart swelled with boundless joy as she stared up at Trowa - so much thinner and very angular under the dark turtleneck he had slipped into, but entirely _awake_ and sitting at her side.

She smiled and laughed at once, hardly believing the vision before her, and her words came out in an exuberant rush. "**Trowa!** I can't believe it! Do you know how **long** you were sleeping? You really scared us! I- eh?" Usagi lurched upward to embrace him, but fell short as the young man held her shoulder down. She floundered, staring up at him questioningly.

The early morning sun shown a warm gold against his hair, and his deep green eyes met hers for a lingering moment, before he broke their stare. "Let me to finish," he said in the calm, unrevealing tone she hadn't realized how much she'd missed, as his moved to wind a length of bandage around her wrist. His long fingers fluttered with less grace than was normal, as he tended to her.

Usagi looked to her other sprained wrist, already bound, and she felt a flood of gratitude wellling inside of her... and when she realized that she was laying on Trowa's bed and had obviously been relocated there by the same man, she was nearly overcome by her emotions. "Trowa, you.. you **shouldn't** be taking care of me! You should be resting, you just got done being really sick, you know. And over exhorting yourself after a bad cold or a fever or the flu is the quickest way to a relapse," she said sagely, channeling her feelings into the Ami-Knows-Best-Voice she had heard more times than she cared to count. "And if you get sick again, I will of course make you soup, but I **won't** tolerate any complaining."

Trowa's careful ministrations halted as Usagi attempted to glare in a most stern sort of way at him. It was apparent that she'd struck some odd chord within the enigmatic man, as the sharp lines of his shoulders unexpectedly began to shake with silent laughter, and the indifferent expression he perpetually wore was suddenly misplaced as a smile cracked against his thin lips. And for the first time, Usagi witnessed Trowa actually _smile_ in earnest, and she decided immediately it was one of the most wonderful things she'd ever seen.

She wanted him to always smile like this, beside her and her friends, with the morning sun in his hair. She wanted to see him carefree, and more than anything else, happy.

Trowa sobered up in seconds, and tying the ends of the bandage, he stood in that abrupt, detached way of his. "Go back to sleep, Serenity."

"But, I-"

Trowa braced himself against the wall nearest the foot of the bed, his movements stiff as he folded his slender arms against his chest. "Rest. If I slept any longer, I would surely turn to stone." He bowed his head, signaling the end of the conversation.

Usagi thought to argue further, but her words were swallowed up by a rather large yawn, and before she knew it she was fast asleep once more.

The next time she awoke, the room was dark and Trowa was gone. A few well placed kicks had the covers drawn off of her, and after a short struggle to sit up, Usagi slipped from the bed in search of the missing man. The surrounding rooms seemed equally as deserted, but as she moved down the dark hallway and drew closer to the stairwell, she heard the low voices of all her captors unmistakably coming from the direction of Heero's quarters.

Usagi drew closer to those twin, heavy doors that Duo had pushed her through on her first night here... A small hand pressed against her mouth to muffle her erratic breaths, knowing how foolhardy it was to venture closer, yet ultimately compelled to find out what sort of meeting was being held that required all five of her captors gather. She crouched and leaned in, one wide eye seeking the window of a keyhole.

"I guess my point is: is it really, _truly_, **_absolutely_** necessary to keep her?" Duo shuffled, appearing uncharacteristically uncomfortable next to the large desk, overflowing with books, papers, maps and charts, just as Usagi remembered it. A hand rose to the back of his head as he sighed audibly, his violet eyes darting between his comrades before he looked down at a particularly old textbook before him, the fringe of his chestnut brown hair masking whatever expression he wore. "She'd just a freaking kid..."

"Precisely." The light of the fire within the hearth cast a flickering, orange glow against Wufei's features, as his onyx gaze narrowed. Duo flashed an appreciative look toward the other, as Wufei slowly paced along the length of the carpeted floor nearest the book-lined wall. "Keeping a girl here is foolhardy. No good can come of it."

The room was disturbingly quiet then, except for the crackling sound of the burning logs.

"...Heero," Quatre said gently, hands clasped in his lap as he leaned forward in his seat. The old, red cushions creaked under his slight weight, as he stared across the desk before him. "She's served her purpose, we have what we needed from her."

"She's useless to us, now," Duo chimed in again, fidgeting again before his hands came to rest on the narrow jut of his hips and he fixed an unwavering stare in the same direction Quatre looked.

Wufei's steps brought him nearer to the braided youth, and he halted, turning to face the desk as well. "And I for one think she knows next to nothing of the crystal's true potential, or she would have wielded it when she had the chance."

"But.. you **already** knew that, Heero," Quatre's kind, tenor voice was so low that Usagi barely caught his words.

"I mean, just think about it," Duo's brash way of speaking seemed uncommonly loud, "She's stuck in this place with five weirdoes who she knows nothing about, but knows what we're up to, and has no way of getting herself home or at least out of this..."

"Hn." Prussian blue eyes stared out from the shadowed, counter-side of the desk where Quatre sat. Heero leaned forward in his own seat, his hands lightly gripping the thick armrests as a calculated stare shifted between the three men who addressed him. "And who will end this torment?" The words were spoken far too coolly, with an edge of steel that was a veritable razor. "Which of you will put the princess out of her misery?"

Usagi froze, her breath catching as she realized the implications of his words, and she wondered who would speak next, or what they would say to that.

However, Wufei and Duo remained absolutely silent.

It was Quatre who spoke up then, the corners of his sea-green eyes softening under the sadness that pervaded them. "Will **you**, Heero?"

"No." That monotonous growl of a word was instantaneous. "Not yet."

"Calling another _Princess_..." The other four men hastily looked to where the inflectionless voice had originated, and Usagi pressed closer to the door to seek our Trowa's tall form, resting back against the mantle that lined the hearth. His arms were crossed against his narrow chest, his head inclined as he spoke. The other four didn't seemed confused by his presence, and Usagi assumed that their reunion had occurred while she slept. "Focusing so much of your attention upon a young woman..." Trowa lifted a hand to his chin thoughtfully, his green eyes catching the light of the fire like a feline's, when he looked up. "I'm certain she'd be beside herself with jealousy."

Heero did not respond.

"Add jealousy to the long list of things Queen Relena is beside herself with," Duo snorted, grinning in a lopsided sort of way that somehow seemed mirthless. "Disappointment, shame, opposition, guilt..." He absently ticked off each word on a finger of one hand.

_Queen Relena_..? Usagi's lips formed the shape of the name, but she didn't dare speak aloud.

"We knew we came without Queen Relena's blessing," Quatre said firmly, frowning at Duo.

Wufei's lip curled in a faint sneer. "She's nothing more than a figurehead."

"Hey, the People support her. Give them their calf in taffeta and white pearls..." Duo snickered, shaking his head.

"Enough." Heero's dangerous voice cut the rest of the comments short. "I will complete the mission with or without the _ginzuishou_, and with or **without** any of you."

The leader of the four men unfurled from his seat in one fluid motion, his impassive features focusing on each of the men in turn as he circled around the desk, and he and Trowa stared at each other from across opposite sides of the room for a few long moments, and there was a tension that had not been present before.

"Hey, Heero, c'mon man. Trust me, none of us are quitting on you," Duo began hesitantly, hands held up and palms out in a universal, non-threatening gesture.

Heero ignored him, his piercing gaze still leveled with Trowa's. "The princess _will_ remain. And this time, she _will_ learn of destruction and despair."

The taller man lowered his hand from his chin, and even that slight movement seemed starkly ungraceful, in comparison to the other four men present. "And I cannot help but wonder **_why_**, when doing so does nothing to benefit the outcome of our mission."

Usagi had done well to witness this scene, unnoticed from her position outside of the heavy, closed doors. But at Trowa's last statement, she saw clearly the tightening of Heero's fists, the smallest twitch, and an almost imperceptible hardening of his expression, and she knew what was to come next. A gasp escaped her, and Heero's deadly glare snapped toward the doors, and where she crouched.

Before she could register any part of the whirlwind that next followed, Usagi found herself inside of that room, the hot flood of air dizzying. Her head had been yanked back by one of the lengths of her hair, and steel flashed molten gold as the edge of a blade bit into her neck, cutting a fine hairline that burned with the perspiration beading on her fair skin. The chiseled sculpture of Heero's form was hot granite beneath the layers of clothing separating them, as he braced himself against her back. Usagi's hands clasped his forearm, and even uninjured she would have done nothing to budge the knife he held to her throat.

"You want her gone. Here is your chance." Usagi gave a strangled, short lived whimper at Heero's words, and she looked past her nose toward the other men in the room. They were all staring, silent, and ill at ease. She didn't dare move.

"Heero." His voice held a note of warning, as Trowa spoke, unmoving still beside the hearth.

"Who will rid us of her?" Heero growled lowly, sharply forcing her to face Wufei, Quatre, and Duo as he turned to address the other three.

Usagi scrambled to keep her footing, knowing that if she stumbled she might very well end her own life by accident. Her thoughts raced, her breath was short, and her heart beat a terrible tattoo against her chest. She should have known better than to eavesdrop, she should have known better than to test Heero in such a way...

"C'mon, Heero, don't do this." Duo's voice was quiet, serious, and the expression pinching his pale features was unrecognizable. He glanced back where Trowa stood, than to Wufei, as though searching them for some sign of how the four should be proceeding.

She felt horrible for putting them all in this awful position, for causing this. "I- I just want to say-" Usagi began fearfully.

"**Quiet**." Heero snarled beside her ear, and the knife's edge bit deeper. Usagi felt a warm trickle against her skin, and she was afraid.

Wufei merely folded his arms and closed his eyes, clearly indicating that he would have nothing to do with the outcome, and Usagi didn't know if she should feel grateful or disheartened.

"I will kill her." His voice had returned to that indecipherable monotone, as Heero looked to Quatre now. Usagi trembled, and looked toward the handsome blond as well, knowing this might be her last chance.

Quatre's thin hand seemed to claw against his chest, over his heart. "This isn't right.. this..." And then his gaze widened in reserved shock. "That is not what you want - at.. at_** all**_." His voice was full of disbelief, and this revelation caused Wufei's almond shaped eyes to open warily, while Duo could only blink owlishly between Quatre and Heero.

Usagi had no time to consider those words and what Quatre could have meant by them. In an instant, the knife was gone from her throat and a raging snarl erupted from Heero as he flung the tiny blond woman from him. She had no way of stopping her descent, and feeling that Heero still gripped her rope of hair, she anticipated the snap-back of her head as the length was drawn taught...

There was only a whispered, _slicing_ sound and Usagi fell bodily to the floor, and she knew what had happened before Duo uttered a small sound of anguish, before she opened her tightly closed eyes to see the long lengths of her hair tangled in Heero's cruel fist, and before she raised a shaking, delicate hand to her head and felt only shorn locks where her right _odango_ had once perched.

The room was hushed as the young woman slowly pushed herself up on one elbow, and then to her knees, her tentative fingers never lowering from their inspection of her scalp. Mute horror, shock, pain, and confusion danced across her face, but there were no tears as she looked up at Heero - impassive, unremorseful, and **always** calculating.

"I.. I.. I..."

_All that remains is rubble, dust.. and the dead._

_Silly! Usagi-chan! **Usako**..._

She swallowed thickly, but her sweet, gentle voice was calm when she spoke again and met Heero's eyes. "I want to go **_home_**. Let me go. Keep what you've taken, but let me go." Usagi's tender gaze swept briefly over the other four men, "And let them come with me..."

Heero gave a short grunt, and Usagi willed herself not to look at his hand, not to look at her hair, not to think about _what he'd just done to her_. "I don't keep them against their will."

"Then.. then **tell** them to come with me!" Usagi shouted, her breath hitching as she fought back useless tears and shook her head. "They don't deserve this life any more than I do. This is no way to live..."

"And _that_ is why they are here."

**x**

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Hi everyone! Thanks for reading! I think I answered everyone's questions who logged in, but feel free to keep them coming... It's good to know the story is panning out the way it's supposed to, based upon the feedback I'm getting, hah! :D

Also! To answer **hannaa**'s question : **is love gonna be in this story?**

Yes! Most definitely, it's just not happening instantaneously. If you squint, or read closely, you can see hints of it.

_Chuu,_

**- Zangai**


	12. Tight Like A Fist

**Chapter 12: Tight Like A Fist**

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"Ami-_chaaaaan_!" A piteous howl, not the first over the span of the past hour, echoed off-key within the mansion. Where was her kindhearted, encouraging friend when she needed her?

"Rei-_chaaaaaan_!" Missing the right half of the familiar weight of her hair, Usagi's head felt off balance as she threw it back and let out another gut-wrenching wail. Where was her wisdom, where was the new maturity and elegance the raven haired priestess had **promised** her?

Though she believed, albeit less strongly in these moments, that she had not been abandoned by her dear friends, Usagi could not ignore the severe feeling of lonesomeness that assaulted her, or recognition that her situation was unjustifiably cruel.

Usagi lifted her loosely balled fists to her eyes, as she continued to cry full bodied, self-pitying tears. Cheeks, neck, and the collar of her dress were soaked, and the constant sniffling had started to make her feel light-headed.

"Mamo-_chaaaaan_!" She needed him to tell her it was alright, _everything_ was alright, that she was still cute, and loveable, and still **Usagi**, even while missing one of her beloved _odango_.

Though she had somehow managed to maintain her composure, when Heero was still standing before her, staring down as though she were _less_ than human, once she was alone that paper-thin facade had crumpled almost instantly.

"Haruka-_saaaaaaaaan_!"

No, these were not aching tears of a woman's too tender heart, mourning the suffering of her world. These were not the reflexive tears that followed pain.

These were the cry-baby tears that Usagi had not shed since she'd arrived, that the grown up girl of 18 that she was had promised herself she **would not** let out. She had wanted so badly to be brave and admirable... but right now, she couldn't care how childish she may have been behaving. Heero's last act had been so personal, so individually destructive that it had been _too much_ for her to bear.

"Seiya-_kuuuuuuuun_!" A hiccupping breath was drawn, all shuddering gulps and keening moans, and then another wail wracked her small form, as she covered her face with her tiny hands. Oh, how she **needed** a warm embrace, a kiss to make it all better, and something yummy to settle her queasy stomach...

Unexpectedly, a hand clamped around the curl of her shoulder, the touch firm but far from painful, and Usagi felt the presence of one of the men lowering into a crouch beside her. "Girl-"

Whatever sharp order or comment that had been about to be issued was cut short as Usagi launched herself at Wufei, thin arms locking around his neck as she buried her face against his chest, tears renewing as she latched onto him with a desperate need for consolation. Her cries were muffled by the rapidly dampening material of his shirt as she clung to him, and the poignant return to near silence in the room was almost overwhelming.

An instant rigidness settled into his frame, and Wufei remained unyielding and unresponsive against her softer, smaller form. Usagi half expected the man to shove her away, and held on to him all the more tightly as she cried.

However, after the first few moments, when he made absolutely no move to draw away from her, the young woman's death-grip slackened, and when she felt the tentative tips of his fingers brush against her lower back, and then a palm press awkwardly against the base of her spine, she let her arms slip from around his neck so that her own hands rested against his chest.

The two remained like that for a short time, until Usagi's violent sobs had been reduced to slower, quaking breaths. When her tears would renew no further, and she sat with her brow pressed against the hollow of Wufei's chest, only then did the young man address her again.

"Are you quite finished?" That tone held no traces of the kindness of his actions, and when she rocked back to peer up at him, the sneer he displayed was full of only contempt.

Usagi's lips quivered, but she did not again grow disheartened - his hand still remained fitted against the curl of her back, and she believed she was beginning to understand that this was simply his way. She dropped her gaze from his narrowed, black eyes and nodded slightly.

"It's certainly about time," he drawled snidely, fluidly pulling away from her and rising effortlessly. She watched as he inspected the ruined front of his shirt, plucking at the sodden material before ignoring it entirely with an unamused shake of his head. "Get up and follow me." With that, Wufei turned and stalked out of the room.

Scrambling to her feet, Usagi quickly caught up to him, keeping a pace or so behind as he led her down the hall, back towards her own room. The house was still, in such a way that she wondered if they were the only two there. "Wh-where is-?"

"Out," Wufei intoned curtly before she could finish the question, and Usagi didn't press him again for information on his cohorts. Instead, she settled into the hiccupping aftermath that followed a lengthy crying session (as quietly as one was able in a deserted hallway), until they reached her room.

Her door opened with a creak, and she was surprised to see the room aglow with pale light. Looking up, she noticed one of the strange, globe-lamps had been brought into her quarters at some point, and hung from a rope tacked in the center of the ceiling. Usagi thought to question that, but again Wufei's voice halted her.

"Sit," he ordered, indicating to the chair that had been repositioned to the open space of the floor, rather than against the wall where it was normally kept.

Obligingly, Usagi plopped into the seat and folded her hands in her lap, mutely regarding her bandaged wrists. Staring down at the evidence of Heero's mistreatment and being reminded of that conversation in the graveyard, thinking of the destruction of her world and _knowing_ that if the four other men were not here that it could only mean one thing... she felt her eyes wet with aching heat once more.

A metallic, snipping sound disturbed her instantly from her darkening thoughts, and reflexively Usagi spun in her seat toward the origin. She cringed away, a hand protectively shielding her remaining _odango_ when she saw the pair of gleaming sheers perching on Wufei's fingers.

"What.. what are you _doing_?" she choked out in a shaking voice.

A sculpted brow slowly arched at her words, and the young man gave an airy snort. "I would think it's quite obvious. Turn around and hold still." The scissors scraped open again, as Wufei calmly moved to stand behind the chair.

"No, _no_, you can't..!" Usagi bleated miserably, holding tight to the remaining half of her hair, not daring to blink as she shrunk further away from him.

"Can't I?" Wufei's bored tone seemed on the brink of annoyance as he continued, "And what exactly were you planning? Looping that rope of hair around the top and tying a bow under your chin? Don't be stupid."

Her fingers slowed in their frantic petting of her silken locks - she had in fact been considering something of the sort, until she managed to grow out the other side again...

For a few moments, neither moved, but this battle of wills was over before it had begun. Defeated, Usagi gradually shifted back to her original position, trembling hands lowering back to her lap as she bowed her head in submission. Wufei was right, there was nothing to be done now, other than even-out what was left of her golden hair.

Usagi visibly winced as Wufei's fingertips delved into her remaining bun, and loosened the tie holding it in place. And when he drew the length of her hair outward, and brought the blades of the scissors in and began cutting, she could not hold back her tears, and stiffened as she cried again for herself.

Wufei gave a quiet hiss of derision. "This _ridiculous_ attachment to hair, I will never understand."

"Of-of c-course you don't," Usagi stuttered accusingly, pawing numbly at her puffy cheeks, to wipe away the evidence, "It's just-"

"It's a senseless _vanity_, an unhealthy attachment," he chastised shortly. "One which you and Maxwell apparently share."

Usagi vaguely recalled thinking Duo had seemed terribly distraught, as Quatre had carefully steered him out of Heero's quarters... She didn't reply as she heard the last cut of the blades, and felt Wufei shift away to lay the great lengths of her hair against the floorboards. Unconsciously, she raised her hands to feel at her crown and the jagged remnants.

Wufei halted her exploration midair and forced her arms back down, but as was the case every time he had ever laid hand on her, his touch was uncommonly gentle and such a stark contrast to his arrogant way of speaking. She felt tears welling once more at the delicate way he combed his fingers through her shorn locks, before he began trimming the uneven cut.

"Wufei..." she began tentatively, her voice strained from her crying. The young man's ministrations did not halt, and she shivered as his knuckles dusted fleetingly against the shell of her ear as the scissors continued their smooth snipping. "Why... Why has Heero kept me? I.. I heard most of that conversation.. Do you know what plans he-?"

"Are you so _convinced_ of your own self-importance, as to continue believing that there are ulterior motives involved here?" Wufei snapped, his exasperation obvious. Usagi flinched, but she needn't - his hands were steady and just as considerate as he trimmed the hair at the nape of her neck. "Wake up, you pompous child. You are nothing more than a distraction for him, there is no grandeur to your remaining."

She thought of Heero's desire for her to understand, however unrealistic his request might be, of his adamant claim that she would learn of despair and destruction, and of Quatre's too-thin hand clutching over his heart as he denied Heero's death-threat... Nothing made any sense, and though Wufei sounded entirely certain, she still wondered.

But right now, more than anything, she felt battered and weary, and Wufei's attitude didn't feel warranted. Wiping again at her moist lashes, Usaig took a steadying breath before speaking. "I don't know why you always talk to me like that, but it isn't very nice. People will think you're a _jerk_."

Wufei snorted again, as she felt him sectioning off a pieces of hair at the back of her head to trim. "And I don't know why you cry so much, people will think you are _weak_."

There was a brief silence between them, punctuated only by the cutting of the scissors, before Usagi conceeded. "I.. I know I'm a crybaby. Rei-_chan_ always teased me so much about it." She smiled weakly, even as she sniffled and swiped at her eyes again. "By now I know that, and.. I don't mind," she continued resolutely, shaking her head in denial; she felt Wufei swiftly release the short, soft strands he'd pressed between two fingers, so as not to pull. "I'm not ashamed of showing my emotions."

"It is not about shame," Wufei's words were calm, but deliberate, as though he were addressing an ignorant child, and Usagi felt her stomach turn uncomfortably. "It is a weakness to cry. Tears offer you a comfort you are in no position to accept. They drain you of your suffering, even as they erode your resolve and take with them the clarity of those ill memories."

Usagi sighed deeply, her eyes slipping closed as she felt Wufei offering her shorn locks a final inspection. "And what am I supposed to do?"

She hadn't expected him to answer in any way that wasn't flippant or derisive, and was startled by his earnest response. "_You do not cry_. You swallow your sorrow, you force it down deep inside of you, even if it makes you scream, but _you do not ever let go_, not of that pain, not of your memories. Instead of tears, you fashion your sorrow into a **strength** that is your weapon." Wufei stepped away from her, finished.

His words bothered her deeply. They struck a distant chord that rang with truth but thoroughly disturbed her as she considered the consequences. A person capable of that, a person who reigned in their emotions so _consciously_... that wasn't - that **couldn't** be her.

"I don't want that weapon," she shook her head again, and found herself juxtaposed between bewilderment at his words - this _advice_? - and bewilderment from the sensation of such short hair. Usagi pressed supporting hands to her temples, not yet daring to examine the young man's final handiwork. She was certain the cut was shorter even than Haruka-_san_'s.

Around her, she heard Wufei moving as he quickly straightened up the area, but she did not look at him. "Those who seek justice must be strong. It is a warrior's pride to possess that strength."

"Protecting loved ones is all that matters..." Usagi argued, turning to face Wufei now, to judge his reaction; her tears had stopped, though her eyes remained bright and shining. The echo of words spoken in a prior battle returned to her in an instant, and she proffered them easily. "If that pride means hurting one another, **I don't want it**."

Wufei crouched down, gathering the remains of her hair in a clothe to be discarded. Tilting his chin up, he regarded her with a closed, almost bored expression, and his cutting retort was issued just as quickly as her last words. "And so, you prove you really are just a stupid girl pretending to be someone capable of greater."

Clutching the small, wrapped bundle, Wufei strode soundlessly from her room before she had come up with a suitable reply.

Stunned, Usagi could only stare at her closed door, as the silence settled back around her like a cloak.

What.. _What was Wufei saying?_ Was he.. was he _telling_ her, **goading** her to be stronger?

She **knew** what it meant to be a soldier, a Sailor _Senshi_. She understood compassion and love, and how to harness that power, and what it meant to battle with that strength.

But...

But she wasn't a soldier, here. Heero had seen to that the night of her capture, had methodically stripped her of the conduit to her strength.

If she was not a Sailor _Senshi_, then where was that strength to be found..?

What was she then..?

_Serenity..._

_Princess..._

**_Girl._**

She.. she was, wasn't she?

She was just a girl who needed to find her own strength.. and that notion was fleetingly frightening - daunting, of course - but altogether **inspiring**, like a flutter of wings inside her chest.

Her heart was her own, and the power of love would **never** escape her. But.. what if she could create her own strength to support that love, without the power of a silver crystal, without being a _senshi_..? Ordinary girls did that, didn't they? Hadn't she always wanted to be like that, like them?

To face Heero, to save her world, to protect Quatre, Trowa, Duo, and Wufei.. For herself...

Maybe... Maybe she just needed to be stronger. She couldn't afford tears - none of them could.

Usagi's fingers absently drifted through her short hair, and she wondered.

**x**

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I know I was about a week late posting, and this is a short chapter as well. It's actually half of one that didn't flow quite right posted together. So I will hopefully get the second half out within the month!

To those who didn't log-in - THANK YOU for reviewing!

And **Nerf**, that was one of the nicest reviews ever, I'm super glad you decided to give this story a shot. Hopefully, I'll continue to keep everyone interested..!

_Chuu,_

**- Zangai**


	13. The Years Snare Them All

**Chapter 13: The Years Snare Them All**

* * *

She had the courage to fight, but to find strength without her powers as a Sailor _Senshi_ so that she could overthrow Heero... How was she to accomplish that?

It was in the earliest hours of the morning that Usagi considered this. Since her conversation with Wufei, and her acceptance of his statements as valuable advice, she'd turned his words over in her mind. Ultimately, she'd come to one singular conclusion:

While she knew that she was capable of finding that strength in herself as a normal girl, she honestly had no idea as to how to access it in such a way that it would be a benefit. It was ridiculous to think she might overpower Heero in a straightforward way, now or ever! It was with hardly an effort that she could recall the hard, unyielding planes of of his chest, his stomach, his arms... It made her shiver even now, tucked beneath the blankets of her bed, when she thought about him.

Perhaps, she just needed more time to foster that strength.. and once it was hers, she would know what to do with it. That seemed more in line with what Wufei had seemed to be trying to tell her, and though she was never a patient one, Usagi knew that she could only bide her time.

Her door creaked open and she smiled brightly, despite the somber thoughts that plagued her. Trowa slipped into her room, balancing a breakfast tray across his arm, his head bowed so that his hair fell as a curtain across his features. His arrival seemed a bit earlier than was usual for her morning meal, but she thought little of it as he wordlessly approached her and presented the tray. He didn't meet her eyes or greet her, which was typical, given his detached interest in many mundane things. She also wondered if he were not still recovering, and was merely too tired for any sort of forced pleasantries, or if he was perhaps trying to afford her some consideration, given her newly shorn locks.

Usagi willed herself to refrain from self-consciously touching her hair or even thinking for too long of it, as she retrieved her tray from him and settled her breakfast in her lap. "Good morning, Trowa!" she chirped sweetly, genuinely grateful that he was again awake and here with her. The last time he had been the one to bring her a meal seemed like ages ago.

Cupping her mug of tea between her hands, her wrists still wrapped in supportive bandages, she watched Trowa retreat to rest back against the wall opposite her. "How are you? Are you feeling okay?" She stared at him over the rim of her mug as she took a long drink.

The quiet man nodded silently, as his arms folded carefully against his chest. Usagi noticed that his movements still seemed awkward and almost disjointed, and she wondered if it were the residual effect of having been unconscious for so long.

She wagged a finger at him, "Next time, make sure you tell someone if you start feeling sick, like me or Quatre or Duo, or maybe even Wufei... He can be kind of a jerk but I think he really does care, deep, deep, deep down." Usagi giggled as Trowa mutely cocked his head to the side, a brow twitching marginally at her statement.

She took another deep drink of her tea before continuing. "He's very good at keeping it hidden, like a golden secret. But, every once in awhile, you can see a little flash of his kindness and it's really something... but only if you're paying close attention." Usagi scrunched her face up in demonstration of supreme concentration.

"I would venture to say it isn't in your best interest to ever discuss these opinions with him directly, Serenity," Trowa said warningly, though she was certain she heard the finest note of amusement behind his noncommittal tone.

She rubbed her nose and sniffed, blinking her eyes rapidly before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I think you're right..." Taking another sip of her tea, she blinked her eyes yet again, as everything shifted momentarily out of focus. Usagi barely had time to replace the cup in the tray, before she lowered her heavy arms listlessly at her sides. "I'm.. sorry," she apologized, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. "I guess I'm just... tired..."

The room abruptly spun, and Usagi was unable to halt herself from falling back against the mattress - the clatter of her breakfast tray sliding from her lap and tumbling off the side of the bed echoed painfully loud.

"I... I can't... What's happening..." half formed phrases slipped through her numb lips as Usagi forced her eyes open. The sun streaked walls and armoire, the empty chair in the corner, the gently swaying orb above her bed, the scattered remains of her breakfast across the floor - all were as a whirlwind of distorted colors and shapes that shifted in and out of focus, and the small woman moaned softly. She felt the cooling wetness of her spilled tea against her thigh. What.. _What was happening to her?_ Somehow, she found the strength to lift a shaking hand, and stared blurrily at the pale digits. "Trowa..."

"It's a necessary precaution, Serenity," he afforded as way of explanation; there was not even a hint of an apology in his tone. Usagi peered through the gaps in her fingers, and piercing green eyes anchored the spinning room - but only for a moment. What had he done to her..?

She groaned again as her arm fell back again as a leaden weight against the duvet covering her. Her lashes fluttered briefly before her lids lowered as well, though darkness brought little relief to this assault of her senses. The cloying, bitter taste of unsweetened tea lingered on her tongue that felt too thick in her mouth, as she struggled to form a coherent sentence. "Why.. are you... why..?"

"You're so tiny, barely a slip of a woman," she cracked her eyes open again, feeling Trowa's weight settle next to her on the mattress as he leaned over her. The tips of two long fingers slid across her throat, his touch a burning heat against her pallid skin, as he checked her pulse. The sharp, uncommon line of distress that had pinched his brows dissipated. "I thought perhaps I had miscalculated..."

The unexpected caress of his thumb against against the curve of her jaw left a trail of warmth in its wake, and Usagi shivered. "You'll recover in due course, though not as quickly as I'd anticipated... However, it is of little consequence."

His words floated around her, registering but not, and the more Usagi fought to focus on what he was saying and regain control of herself, the more difficult a task it seemed. She felt Trowa carefully draw back the thickest of her blankets, and she was acutely aware of the fact that beneath the thin sheet still shielding her, she wore only undergarments rendered threadbare from too many hand washings.

Usagi uttered a small sound of opposition, as Trowa gingerly slipped his lean arms around her. She felt his palms against the fine bones of her shoulder-blades, too warm against her, as he drew her up into his embrace. Why was he doing this.. he wasn't the sort.. she couldn't _believe_ he was the sort to take advantage of a girl, but.. Was this apart of some order bestowed upon him by Heero..?

"Heero is not here, and therefore remains unaware of my actions," he spoke softly, his lips against her ear, as her forehead rested against him and he bowed over her. She.. she must have said some of her thoughts out loud...

"Please, do not think less of me, Serenity, for not seeking your consent in this." As he spoke, he wrapped the sheet securely around her petite frame, and she felt his touch linger against the base of her skull, fingers comb fleetingly through her silken, shorn locks.

"Consent... what..?" Usagi tried to look at him, but could not find the strength to crane her neck. She didn't understand what he was getting at, at all... Lightheaded and disoriented, she could do little else but brace herself against him.

Trowa guided her arms around his neck and adjusted his grip on her, so that her face was nestled against the juncture of his shoulder and throat. A slender arm curled around her back, the other beneath her bent knees, as he straightened and carried her toward the door. "Tell me about your friends."

His voice was low and calm, and she felt the vibrations against his chest as he spoke. Her friends..? What did that have to do with consent..? The smiling faces of her dear ones flashed in her minds eye. Usagi inhaled deeply as she tried to gather her thoughts - his scent was somehow familiar, reminded her of grass and leaves and a sweet breeze in spring...

"You freakin'.. **bastard**..." Duo's weakened voice interrupted, as Trowa stepped into the hallway. The scrape of his boots against the floor seemed to echo in her ears longer then was natural, as Trowa slowly turned - the world was a swirl of disarray. Though she found her body almost entirely unresponsive, she forced her head to tilt in Duo's direction as she willed her eyes to remain open.

Duo's genial features were twisted into a grimace, gaze half-lidded as he pulled himself across the floorboards. His legs dragged as limply as his braid behind him, and a quivering arm stretched out toward Trowa, as though he wished to grab him. "You.. traitorous..!"

Smoothly, Trowa crouched and placed Usagi on the floor, her back against one of the uneven, stone walls. The room alternately spun and reorganized itself as she watched Trowa's purposeful steps as he strode back to Duo, and kneeled beside him.

"This is for the best - for everyone," Trowa assured him in an even, uncompromising tone, as he applied pressure to Duo's neck without hesitation.

"Nn..." Duo struggled for a moment, before going still.

Aghast, Usagi could only watch Trowa pat his comrade's shoulder, before standing once more and returning to her side. Again, he gathered her securely in his arms before rising, and continued down the hallway. Over the sharp line of Trowa's shoulder, Usagi stared at Duo's unresponsive, abandoned form. This was.. this was a betrayal! But why?

Trowa easily shifted her weight against his form, and she felt herself again relaxing in in cradle of his arms, as he rubbed the tenseness out of her back. She felt the wordless hum of reassurance he issued, more than she heard it, and it made her think of the way one might soothe a frightened child or nervous stray.

"Trowa..." she murmured. The room lurched as she lifted her head, and she felt as though she might lose herself to unconsciousness.

"Stay with me, Serenity. I know it may be difficult, but please do try," Trowa's tranquil, persistant voice reeled her back. He canted his head down for a moment, the lengths of his hair obscuring half his features like a mask. "Tell me of your friends, Serenity," he urged, as he began down the stairs - it felt like they were floating underwater.

She understood he was trying to keep her awake, and Usagi tried to do as he asked. The words came to her with hardly an effort, though she spoke stutteringly past numb lips. "A-Ami_-chan_.. is the smartest girl.. you'll ever meet. I.. I think I told you about her, once..." Trowa did not reply as he continued down the steps. "But I'll tell you a secret... Even though she's shy.. and a real genius... she's also a big, sappy romantic with a huge heart.. She has one of the prettiest smiles I've ever seen.. she's my best friend."

They passed by the tan couch where Duo had deposited her upon her arrival the first night of her capture, and Usagi was startled to see Quatre laying still across the cushions, eyes closed and body relaxed; in the limp curl of the hand dangling over the arm of the couch, she saw a mug, the pooled remains of tea a dark stain on the floorboards, trickling through the cracks between each plank of wood.

"Trowa... why.. did you.. do this?" Usagi choked out.

"There will be time for that question soon enough, if you do not deduce the answer for yourself first, Serenity," Trowa responded evenly, his long strides carrying them further into this level of the mansion, into the area of the first floor that Usagi had yet to venture. "Please, continue to tell me..."

"Minako_-chan_ is..." Trowa turned a corner, and sharp, bright rays of the dawn's light blinded her for a moment. "Minako_-chan_ is.. sunshine and love." Usagi's heart swelled as she thought of her friend's brilliant, golden hair and dazzling blue eyes. "She's so outgoing and confident... Rei_-chan_ says she can be.. a real ditz, like me.. But you can.. trust her with your heart, because you just know..she would never want to hurt you. She's so cheerful, it's impossible.. not to adore her."

He carried her through a new doorway, and Usagi was assaulted with the scent of spices - rosemary, parsley, sage, basil, cinnamon, too many to name. Before she was able to lift her head and look around, Trowa had kneeled and placed her limp form gently upon the ground once more. As he turned from her, Usagi felt herself slumping over, unable to hold her own posture.

Wearily, she blinked at the sturdy, aged oak table, the familiar bowls and cups lining the counter, at the chipped clay pottery and the hanging, dried herbs that lined the windowsill.

The tall form of her captor crouched before her, his long, thin hands guiding hers around a small, red apple. "Try to eat, Serenity. It will help." Usagi's gaze was beseeching, but Trowa did not meet her eyes, as he drew away again and returned to the other side of the kitchen.

As she watched him calmly gathering small parcels from cabinets and sifting through drawers, steadily placing objects within an open satchel he carried, Usagi was vaguely aware of the dull thud of the apple falling from her weak grasp, rolling away and out of sight.

Trowa's height, his dark hair, his eyes... Moving about the kitchen with such familiarity, he reminded her vividly of another of her dearest friends. "Mako_-chan_.. is the best chef in all of Juban district," Usagi began without prompting. "She's so independent.. was already living on her own when we first met...The bravest girl around, too... Nobody messes with her.. or her friends..." She paused, her memories of Makoto, of Ami, of Minako almost overwhelming. "She.. Mako_-chan_ worries that she isn't very elegant or graceful.. she is though, she really is.. even if she doesn't always think so."

When Trowa lifted her effortlessly once more, Usagi felt the bulge of the tied sack against his side, slung over one of his narrow shoulders. As he retraced his steps through the silent mansion, the walls and floors alight with the sun peaking over the horizon, spilling in through the barred windows, it were as though Usagi was still caught in a dream.

They soon arrived at the mansion's entrance, and when Trowa opened the heavy door, a cool breeze, carrying with it the faint scent of the ocean, washed over Usagi, ruffling through the shorn locks of her hair, teasing the skin of her cheeks. The final remnants of a sky made pink from sunrise were fading, giving way to clear, boundless azure above the vibrantly green leaves of the trees, and Usagi was reminded of the natural and man-made beauty of the Hikawa Shrine.

"Rei_-chan_..!" Usagi called out to the memory, to her friend, her _senshi_, before her focus returned her to the present. With renewed clarity, she felt Trowa's strong, lean arms wrapped around her small body, felt the rise and fall of his firm chest against her, and the thrum of his heartbeat. His steps did not falter at her outburst, as he carried her down the decrepit steps, following a path that would lead them through the trees and onward to the beach.

"She's very passionate, and absolutely fearless... Rei_-chan_ always speaks her mind.. But she teases me all the time, because I'm such a baby... She's so mature and cool. Did.. Did I ever tell you that she's a priestess too? I sort of understand why she picks on me sometimes..." Usagi gave a soft, short lived trill of laughter. "Rei_-chan_ is also very beautiful... I really admire her..."

Beneath the canopy of the trees, only speckles of sunlight penetrated the welcomed shade, as Trowa wordlessly continued forward. The distant crash of waves against the turf was growing louder now, though here it only smelled of green and earth, of spring and summer, that cloying, crisp freshness that reminded her so very much of Trowa, that she wasn't altogether sure if it wasn't his scent she breathed, with her head resting against his shoulder.

Once before however, she had inhaled this same scent - Usagi poignantly remembered the first time she had donned one of the dresses that had been brought to her, and suddenly recalled the name Duo had spoken, a name that had been meticulously carved into a gravestone. And she then recalled the faded photograph she'd found in Trowa's room, of a girl with a sharp nose and thin mouth that was mirrored in the face of the man she now looked up at...

A stark feeling of an impending realization cleared away the fogginess of her thoughts, as she asked, "Trowa, who was Catherine?"

As Trowa navigated around the trunks of trees, well placed steps taking them over the jut of roots and overgrown foliage, nothing in his neutral countenance altered, and Usagi believed that he would not answer. Carrying her past the final line of trees, he walked across the the patch of grass that gave way to pale sand, before he halted.

Staring off in the distance, his expression at first remained as unreadable as ever. Unexpectedly, his eyes softened, and if Usagi had not been watching him so fixedly, she would have missed it. "Cathy was my older sister," he replied simply.

Usagi continued to gaze up at him as he started across the length of the beach and toward the water. Of all the things she had said of her friends, of the thoughts and feelings she had tried so sincerely to express to Trowa, he had captured all that needed to be said about Cathy, the woman with too-wise eyes and auburn hair, in such a short, quietly spoken statement. Usagi heart pulled with a fierce, protective sort of sympathy for Trowa, at his admission.

The spray of the crashing waves dampened her cheeks, and when Usagi glanced outward she saw that they had now reached the water's edge and a familiar boat.

Leaning over the the boat, Trowa carefully deposited Usagi into the bow, despite her protests. "Trowa.. What- what are you doing..! **Trowa**..!" Her tiny hands fisted the material of his shirt, the bewilderment of all of his actions cumulating at this moment.

"I would believe it is obvious by now, that I am facilitating your escape, Serenity," he explained smoothly, plucking her still-weakened hands off his person. Trowa swung the satchel he carried into the boat as well, settling the food supplies under a seat to keep the contents out of the heat of the sun.

"Trowa..." she murmured tremulously, catching one of his retreating hands between her own. Usagi's shock, confusion, and gratitude were evident, but immediately replaced by another thought that set her cerulean eyes ablaze as she tightened her hold.

He seemed to know what her next words would be, and before she had a chance to utter them, Trowa was shaking his head firmly. "Do not misunderstand me, Serenity," he intoned evenly, easily withdrawing from her touch. "I have no intention of forsaking my mission."

"I can't- I **can't** leave!" Usagi shouted stubbornly, finding the strength to rise to her knees, her legs quivering with effort as she grasped the edge of the boat to steady herself. She.. she had to make him understand... "I can't go, not without Duo, Quatre.. and even grumpy Wufei... And **not** without you, Trowa!"

Trowa ignored her cries, as he moved around to the back of the boat and began pushing it down the wet slope of sand and toward the waiting water. Usagi stubbornly crawled the length of the boat toward Trowa, certain that if she could just make him look at her, he would change his mind, would _listen_ to reason. As she had already been so certain with all of them, she knew that Trowa was not evil, could not possibly want this fate Heero had determined for all of them...

"Please... Don't- don't make me abandon everyone..." Usagi continued pleadingly, her eyes burning. She bit back her useless tears, willed herself to think of something, **anything**, that would make Trowa understand. "Heero- Heero told me! He told me **_everything_**!" she shouted desperately as she reached him, and sat at the rear of the boat.

Trowa lifted his head, his impenetrable gaze searching her, though he did not slow the boat's descent.

"It doesn't.. it doesn't have to end this way, his way, Trowa! _Come with me_, gather the others and come with me, all of you..." She was running out of time, saw the lapping waves striking Trowa's boots, the crashing spray of salt water against her arms, her neck, her cheeks stronger.

"Ami_-chan_ and Rei_-chan_ and Mako_-chan_ and Minako_-chan_... All of us can be together, all of us can be _**friends**_, don't you see?" Usagi's words came out in a rush of compassion and longing, so thoroughly convinced of this possibility. The water had passed Trowa's waist, and was rising quickly above his chest and shoulders. "We'll protect each other, we can figure out how to stop this, how to stop Heero... Please, Trowa!"

Trowa was swimming skillfully behind the boat, pushing it further out to sea, and when he finally spoke, she knew it was too late. "Farewell, Serenity."

The boat lurched as he shoved the vessel forward, and Usagi could only grip the edge of the boat, staring wide eyed as the distance between her and Trowa grew, as she was carried out to sea and he began a steady backstroke toward shore.

_Home_... She was going to go **_home_**... After all this time, after all of the pain and worrying and heartache and longing for her friends, her beloved _senshi_... She was going to return to them. And it was stunningly bittersweet, this parting, as she and Trowa stared at one another, across the growing space between them. She was leaving Trowa, Duo, Quatre, and Wufei behind... No. _**No.**_ She would find a way to come back for them, she would-

Usagi's blood ran cold as her sight flickered to the beach, and saw the unmistakeable dark silhouette of another man swiftly approaching the water's edge. She knew who it was, before she could discern his steel-set features, before he had raised his right arm, and leveled a gun in her direction...

Her breath caught in her chest - surely.. _surely_ his bullet wouldn't reach her from this distance...

In the short seconds it took her to realize her error, the trigger had been pulled and a heart-jolting crack of the discharged weapon was echoed simultaneously by her cry of warning. "**Trowa, behind you**!"

Usagi first thought perhaps Heero had somehow missed. Trowa had already reached the shallows, and stood waist deep in the ocean. He hadn't turned at the sound of the gunshot, only stared at her across the distance separating them. She blinked however, and the water around the tall, slender man has blossomed crimson.

She cried out in despair, as Trowa toppled backward under the weight of an oncoming wave. "**_Trowa_****_!_**"

Usagi could only stare helplessly, as Heero strode into the ocean after the other man, holding his gun above the reach of the waves as he delved his free arm beneath the water, pulling Trowa to the surface. In mute horror, she watched as Heero forced the other man back to the beach, coldly throwing his injured comrade against the sand.

Trowa struggled to rise to his knees before his leader, his right shoulder and chest stained red with fresh blood.

With measured, fluid strides, Heero came to stand before the other, his back straight and shoulders up. Terrible and dark and purposeful, he lifted his chin to look toward Usagi, and brought his gun arm down, training the nozzle at Trowa's forehead. His intent was clear.

"_**No!**_" Usagi shrieked, and without thought of the consequences, she pushed herself over the side of the boat and fell into the frigid water. She knew she would be too late, that she couldn't possibly reach Trowa before Heero pulled the trigger, but could only hope that her return would deter Heero's ire.

The sheet Trowa had wrapped around her form had tangled her legs, and in her weakened state Usagi hadn't the proper strength to kick it off. Floundering limp-limbed under water, the binding cloth slipped off of its own accord however, as stars burst against her closed eyelids from lack of oxygen.

Usgai somehow managed to break the surface and gasped, sucking in greedy lungfuls of air even as she coughed and choked on seawater. Desperately, she used every ounce of energy in her to swim back to shore, drawing strength from the seconds and minutes that ticked by without the resounding bang of a second gunshot.

Once the tips of her toes were able to touch bottom, she let the waves carry her spent form the final distance to land. It was on hands and knees that she drug herself out of the ocean, retching the bellyful of salt water that she'd swallowed down. Neither Trowa or Heero called out to her, as she gracelessly forced herself to stand, and stumbled to them, positioned at the other end of the beach.

She was shaking from effort and fear, legs and hands covered in sand, and acutely aware of how she must look in threadbare underclothes, soaked and clinging to her as a second skin indecently. It was with as much determination as she could muster that she faced Heero head-on, refusing to shy away, lest he proceed with this murderous act.

"**Don't**- Heero, **don't** do this..." she began softly, coming to stand beside Trowa, trying to ignore his injured shoulder and the coppery, pungent oder of his blood.

"You should not have returned, Serenity," Trowa stated with an eerie calm, his sight meeting Heero's.

Heero's mouth twisted into the semblance of a smirk, and he thrust the gun forward so that the tip pressed flush against the other man's brow. "Predictable."

Usagi flinched, her hands reflexively jerked toward Heero, though she dared not touch the gun. "Please, Heero," she began again; her heart was beating so fast and hard, she was certain he could hear it, could hear that and her obvious fear, as she spoke trembling words. "I- I was wrong to try- to try to leave, I-"

His feature shifted back into a cool expression that revealed little, even as his calculating gaze averted from Trowa, and instead swept over Usagi. Though he did not linger on any part of her wet, trembling form, she felt creeping heat flood her cheeks. He had already rendered her fearful of his wrath, and now he disarmed her of her dignity.

His nasal tone was light, unaffected as he addressed her. "Understand, Princess. It is not him that I truly punish. Let this serve as a lesson to you."

"**No, Heero, _no!_**" Usagi shouted, pitching forward to clutch one of Heero's wrists, teeth clenching as her eyes prickled with wet heat, though she would not cry, not now, _not now_...

Heero didn't budge an inch, even under the full weight of her struggles and his empty eyes met her shining ones, as though desiring to absorb every second of the despair he caused her.

"**Please,** I'll do anything!" Usagi swore in earnest, knowing that she would not sway Heero's decision, as the corners of his mouth twitched upward in an unpleasant, smug grin.

Heero pointedly pulled back the hammer of the gun, and Trowa closed his eyes, making no move to resist his fate.

Not **_Trowa_**, not because of _**her**_! She couldn't accept this sacrifice, and without thinking Usagi released Heero's wrist and dropped to her knees beside Trowa. She would offer **every** shred of her honor as a _woman_, as a _senshi_, as the heir to the moon kingdom, if it meant Trowa's life would be preserved...

Usagi prostrated herself at Heero's feet, her sweet voice plaintive. "I'll serve you, I'll do _**whatever**_ you ask of me."

She heard Heero's breath hiss in shock, as she kowtowed before him. Shaking hands splayed against the sand, as she deliberately lifted her brow and touched it back to the ground-

"_Get up, Princess_." Heero's voice was strangled, and though her eyes were lowered, Usagi saw him take a retreating step away from her.

She lifted her head and touched it to the ground a second time.

"_**Get up.**_" A snarl, furious rage that Heero seemed only to reserve for her.

Before Usagi could repeat the gesture a third time, Heero had clamped an iron fist around the front of her thin undershirt, and effortlessly lifted the young woman off the ground. She clawed futiley at the the hand that held her aloft, her toes swiping at the sand below though she was unable to plant her feet. Her fear, revulsion, and surprise were met with Heero's unwavering, piercing stare- and Usagi was shocked that his fury was tainted by something else, an echo of one of her own emotions...

"Swear that you will never try to escape again," Heero's growled monotonously, and he shook her once. "**Swear it.**"

"I swear!" Usagi bleated quickly in agreement.

Unceremoniously, Heero released her so that she crumpled when she hit the ground, and with a snarl and a sickening thud of metal striking flesh, he struck Trowa with the butt of his gun.

She watched as Heero tore away from them with the grace and speed of a feline, back toward the mansion.

It was_ too much_ to consider, to _absorb_ in this moment that _**Trowa had been spared**_, that Heero had reacted in such a way to her subservience, that **_she was not going home..._**

Trembling, Usagi scampered to where Trowa lay unmoving, forcing herself to focus on the present only, and to not think of anything else. Gathering the unconscious man in her arms, she pressed her palms to the wound on his shoulder, and worked to slow the bleeding as she waited for one of the other men to come and find them.

**x**

**x**

**x**

* * *

Phew! Got Chapter 13 out! A little late, sorry about that!

_Chuu,_

**- Zangai**


End file.
